


Come As You Are

by Skyshadow3246, Wolfloner



Series: Finding Beauty in Negative Spaces [28]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Adorable Bruce Banner, Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Body Dysphoria, Borderline Personality Disorder, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Deadpool Thought Boxes, Friendship, Ice Skating, Identity Issues, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Michelle Jones is a Little Shit, Minor Violence, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, POV Peter Parker, POV Wade Wilson, Panic Attacks, Pansexual Character, Pansexual Wade Wilson, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter is a nerd, Rating for later chapters, Research, Schizophrenic Wade Wilson, Sexual Identity, Wade Wilson Needs A Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-01-24 15:17:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18574129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyshadow3246/pseuds/Skyshadow3246, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner
Summary: His mind kept wandering back to that stupid quiz and the unwelcome feeling that he wasn’t enough. That maybe Wade wasn’t getting his needs met, and that maybe Peter was being selfish for hating the idea of Wade seeking out anyone else. Even if it was just sex.That was something people did right? Just have sex for the sake of it? No feelings or emotions attached?He dropped down a block away from where he’d ditched his clothing and waited until he could return to the alley and retrieve them. It was late. He just wanted to be at home and warm and curled up with Wade. He could think about the rest later.Despite the excerpt, this fic does have a lot of fluff and lighthearted moments as well, I promise.A deep dive into Asexuality and something of a character study.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> FBiNS is back, baby! With fresh Spideypool and me working through some stuff with my own asexuality.  
> Friendly reminder that asexuality, like any other sexuality, is different for different people. There is no one "right way" to be any sort of identity. 
> 
>  
> 
> ~~And Peter is considerably more sex-favorable than I personally am. *shrug*~~

_ Come as you are, as you were _ __  
_ As I want you to be _ __  
_ As a friend, as a friend _ _  
_ __ As a known enemy

— Come As You Are,  _ Nirvana _

 

 

Peter called May the second they left The Tower.

 

“Peter?”  _ Hell. _ She sounded like she'd been crying.

 

“Yeah, hi Aunt May. Uh. I'm back.”

 

“What?” she sniffed.

 

He grabbed a hold of Wade's hand and held on tightly as they walked back to their apartment. “You know how I said time was weird where we went?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah. As far as Earth is concerned, I was gone for less than two minutes.”

 

“You left  _ Earth?” _

 

Peter winced from her high pitched tone. “I did, but not in the way that you're picturing.”

 

Wade squeezed his hand and Peter had the feeling that it would be some time before his boyfriend would willingly let him out of his sight.

 

“But on the plus side, I can come see you tomorrow like we'd planned.”

 

Aunt May was quiet for a moment. “And you'll tell me all about what happened today?”

 

“Yeah, I will. I promise.”

 

* * *

 

Wade had curled himself around Peter and held onto him tightly all throughout the night. It was around 2 in the morning when Wade whispered, “You awake?”

 

“Kinda.”

 

“I’m really proud of you for what you did today.”

 

Peter smiled and curled his arms around Wade’s—the closest he could come to hugging him. “Thank you.”

 

“It was hard to watch you go, though.”

 

“I know.”

 

“No, it was… It was my own stupid plan that put you in danger. Because at the time I was just thinking in terms of Spider-Man.” Wade kissed the back of his head. “I didn’t stop to think about the fact that I was also putting Peter in danger.”

 

Peter was quiet as he considered Wade’s words. “Do you think of us as different people?”

 

“Sometimes the difference is… blurry.”

 

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. “I get that.”

 

“What time are you meeting up with May?”

 

“Originally we were having dinner but after today...yesterday? Whatever. I was thinking about heading over there earlier than that.”

 

“Then I should let you get some sleep, huh?”

 

Peter smiled and pressed himself as close to Wade as he could manage. “Goodnight, Babe.”

 

“G‘Night, Baby Boy.”

 

* * *

 

Peter had barely walked through the door when May pulled him into a tight hug.

 

“I’m so sorry for scaring you,” he said as he returned the hug.

 

Eventually they released each other and moved to the living room. “Did anyone get hurt?” she asked.

 

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Loki was really tired but I don’t think he was actually injured or anything.

 

“Working with Loki…” she said softly. “It’s hard to wrap my head around, after…”

 

“Yeah.” Peter leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. “It’s complicated, though. He wasn’t… He was being controlled, back then.”

 

“Who could control someone like that?”

 

Peter blinked. That was a good question and it made wave of unease clench at his chest. “I don’t know. Someone stronger than him, I guess.” 

 

He was grateful when May didn’t try to stay on that topic. She could probably see that the question bothered him. She was good at stuff like that, after all. How had he ever thought he could  _ hide _ being Spider-Man from her.

 

Why had he ever thought he’d needed to?

 

“So, where did you go yesterday? Where time was weird.”

 

He blew out a long breath. “Ok, um. How familiar are you with Norse mythology?” He leaned forward so he could gauge her reaction.

 

“A little bit. I think the whole world read up on it after Thor and Loki showed up in New York.”

 

“Right. Ok, so, we went to another realm. Vanaheim.”

 

“Is that like Asgard?”

 

“Kind of. I think. I mean, I’ve never been to Asgard, so I don’t know how similar they are, but… Well, hang on.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and showed her the pictures he’d taken. The plant-life, the palace, and the one quick shot he’d snagged of Loki and Sigyn’s home while they waited to see what was going to happen.

 

“That’s one of those wolves, isn’t it?” She pointed to Fenrir.

 

“Yeah. Fenrir. Uh, one of Loki’s children. And that,” he pointed to Hel, “is Hel, Loki’s daughter.” He chewed on his lip as he considered how to continue explaining. “The other wolf, the red one, that was Váli. That’s who we were there to save.”

 

“Save?”

 

He nodded and did his best to explain what he knew. Which, he realized quickly, wasn’t actually very much. That  _ something _ had happened that lead to Odin breaking Váli’s mind. That he’d been driven mad.

 

“But we—well, Loki and Sigyn—broke the curse. So...he should be back to normal, now. I think.”

 

May nodded as he talked. “How long have you been involved in,” she gestured vaguely. “All of this magic and Gods and… All of that?”

 

“Uh. Remember that giant rooster?”

 

“Hard to forget something like that.”

 

“That’s when I got involved.” He paused. “Well, no, I guess that’s not true. A bit before that, there was that big metal ball at that pier? I guess  _ that’s _ when I got involved, really.”

 

May looked taken aback. “Those were related?”

 

“Yeah. Váli… Actually, I’m not sure what happened there. But I was there fighting him. That’s actually when I met Deadpool.” She just looked at him expectantly so he continued. “He showed up guns blazing and swearing up a storm and that, uh. That didn’t do sh-. Didn’t do anything to stop it. So Loki threw him and they stabbed the ball.”

 

“And that stopped it?”

 

Peter nodded. “It turned out there was a guy in there. So when Deadpool and Loki stabbed him…”

 

“They killed him?”

 

“Yeah,” he acknowledged quietly.

 

“Peter,” May started slowly. “Why did you tell  _ Deadpool _ who you really were?”

 

“I didn’t exactly…” He closed his eyes and recounted what had happened when they’d fought the rooster. Being hit by the curse. Being so overwhelmed by sensory overload that anything touching his skin had been unbearable. How he’d tossed his mask off without a second thought to who all was in the room.

 

“Did he ever ask who you were before that?” May asked after taking a few moments to digest that new information.

 

Peter shook his head. “No. In fact, he was always really adamant that I  _ shouldn’t  _ tell him. He said that me being Spider-Man was enough.”

 

“And when he found out you were a teenager?”

 

He shrugged. “We started hanging out as Peter and Wade sometimes. And teaming up as Spider-Man and Deadpool. We work well together.”

 

Her fingers tapped against her leg. “Would you like some tea or coffee or something?”

 

“Huh? Oh, uh. Coffee would be great?” He tilted his head and watched her get up from the couch and… well,  _ escape  _ seemed like the best word for it.

 

“Aunt May?” he asked following after her cautiously. 

 

“You know I like Wade, right?” May stared at the coffee maker as she spoke.

 

“That’s the impression I’ve gotten, yeah.”

 

“And that I support you in anything you want to do?”

 

“Right…”

 

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry about you.”

 

Right. That was why he hadn’t wanted to tell her about being Spider-Man. “I know. But I promise I do my best to stay safe and—”

 

“And Wade?”

 

“Uh, he’s a bit more reckless, but—”

 

“No, I mean,” she turned and leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. “The two of you are living together. And I can see how much you two care about each other, but…”

 

“May,” he interrupted. “Despite...everything you’ve probably heard. Despite Deadpool’s reputation, Wade’s a good guy.”

 

“Is Deadpool?”

 

That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? “Yes,” he declared. “He’s not perfect, but he’s a Good Person.”

 

It was a tense moment while Peter wondered if he was going to have to try to jump to Wade’s defense. Again. He’d do it, if he needed to.

 

But all May said was, “Ok.” And that was that.

 

Which didn’t mean she didn’t have plenty more questions lined up for him. About Spider-Man, about Deadpool, about the Avengers, and more embarrassingly, a few about his relationship with Wade.

 

It was obvious she was trying not to pry too deeply, though, which he appreciated.

 

But he still groaned when, halfway through dinner, she said, “Ok, I have to ask,” because that usually meant that she was going to ask something awkward that he didn’t really want to answer. 

 

“When you and Wade have sex—”

 

Peter choked on the bite of potato in his mouth. “What?” he squeaked after he’d cleared his throat. “Why would you just assume that we’re…” He tried to keep himself from flailing, but didn’t quite manage it.

 

“I do actually remember what being a teenager was like, Peter. And you and Wade have been living together for several months.”

 

“Jesus Christ.” He buried his face in his hands and wished desperately for any kind of emergency to happen.  _ Anything _ that could get him far far away from this conversation.

 

So naturally New York decided that this was a perfectly good afternoon to be as uncooperative as possible. 

 

“Ok, fine,” he sighed, not coming out from behind his hands. “What do you want to know?”

 

May’s voice was gentle as she continued. “I promise this is the only thing I’ll ask. I don’t want to know any details or anything. But I need to know if the two of you are being safe?”

 

“Safe?” He repeated before the meaning caught up with him. “Oh!” He lowered his hands. “I, uh. I mean, Wade and I both have super healing factors, and we’re only doing anything, you know… with each other. So…”

 

“Peter Benjamin Parker.” May looked thoroughly unimpressed by his perfectly reasonable explanation. 

 

“What? It’s true! And it’s not like either of us can get pregnant.”

 

“There’s no way you can possibly know for certain that neither of you can get sick.”

 

“Well, I mean—”

 

“I know. You and Wade heal very quickly. And you told me that Wade can’t die. But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t be carrying something. And you don’t know all the ways that spider might have affected you. Even if you  _ are _ right, it’s important to err on the side of caution.”

 

Peter crossed his arms and stared down at the remains of his dinner. “Fine. If you promise to never,  _ ever, _ bring this up again. We’ll buy some condoms and be more careful and all that.”

 

He could see May smiling in his periphery. “That’s all I ask.”

 

After that their conversation blessedly turned to school and Peter’s college application and what sort of classes he was hoping to take the next fall.

 

“I still can’t believe all the Spanish I took in high school isn’t going to count at ESU.”

 

“Are you just going to take ESU’s Spanish classes?”

 

“Maybe,” he grumbled. “Or I’ll take French or ASL or something, so I can have a better shot at understanding what Wade’s saying when he’s making fun of the fact that I don’t just absorb languages like he does.”

 

“Wade speaks French?”

 

“Wade speaks  _ everything,”  _ he muttered. “Uh, French, Spanish, ASL… and some German and Japanese, I think? And he knows random snippets of a bunch more.”

 

May laughed at his barely-meant complaints. 

 

“And Ellie’s a sponge for it, too. She’s  _ 8 _ and can talk circles around me in 3 different languages.”

 

He considered that train of thought for a moment. “Or maybe I’ll try to test into a higher level Spanish class so I can learn more and talk to Ellie in her native language better.” He briefly wondered if he could try taking more than one. It wasn’t like he didn’t have people he could practice the languages with.

 

After dinner they were back in the living room with the tv turned down low, playing the evening news. 

 

“I’m so proud of you, Peter,” May said suddenly.

 

“Huh? Oh… Thanks, Aunt May.”

 

“I mean it. What you’re doing scares the crap out of me, but… you’re out there helping people. And Gods. It’s incredible. You’re pretty incredible.” She broke the gravity of the moment by reaching over and ruffling his hair. “Your parents would be, too, you know.”

 

“They would?” he asked. 

 

“They were always trying to save the world in their own ways too.” 

 

Peter swallowed thickly. “Yeah.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “You think they’d be cool with me running around as a vigilante?”

 

May hummed. “Maybe. Aside from you putting yourself in danger, of course. But Rick especially… He would have understood. Sometimes doing the right thing means bending the rules a little.”

 

He sat up. “Really?” That was definitely not something he’d ever known about his father. “What makes you say that?”

 

“Rick and Ben both believed that if you have the power to help someone, then you have to try to do so. It’s a responsibility that you owe to your fellow man.”

 

“With great power and all that?”

 

“Exactly. But sometimes they disagreed on what exactly that meant.”

 

“Like calling the cops versus stepping in yourself?”

 

“Mmhmm.”

 

“And Dad would have stepped in himself, you think?”

 

May hesitated before answering. “Yes. Don’t misunderstand, Ben would have too, if he didn’t have any other options.”

 

Peter’s chest ached. He knew exactly what Ben would have done when he didn’t think he had any options. 

 

“What about my mom?”

 

“She’d have been there figuring out a way to kick ass with you.”

 

Peter laughed even as a knot tightened in his stomach at the thought of his parents, and how they might have reacted to what he was doing now.

 

He wondered how close May was to her estimation of their reactions.

 

He wished he could have known them.

 

* * *

 

The apartment was filled with the sound of 80s music as Peter cooked breakfast and Wade stationed himself at their table. He’d finally opened the new whetstones Peter had bought him and was gleefully sharpening every knife they owned. 

 

“Gonna give me a preview of that “hair test” thing?” Peter asked, setting down a plate of breakfast burritos near him.

 

“Nope. I told Ellie I’d show you both at the same time, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

 

Peter huffed and sat down across from him with his own breakfast. “Fine. I guess.”

 

Wade gave him an amused look. “Do we have any tomatoes? I can show you something else cool.”

 

“Are they still going to be edible afterwards?” Peter had never been a fan of wasting food.

 

“Of course. What do you think I’m going to do with them?”

 

Peter just grinned and grabbed a tomato from the counter. “I never know with you.”

 

Rather than get right to...whatever it was he was going to do, Wade got up and carefully washed the knife he’d been sharpening. He also returned with a cutting board.

 

“Ok. You ready?” He asked.

 

“Sure?” Peter leaned forward, his curiously piqued.  _ Surely  _ Wade was going to do something more than just chop up a tomato.

 

Wade set the tomato on the board and then dropped his hand back to the side. His other hand brought the knife up and, with a quick smirk, cut off the top of the tomato.

 

“Wait, what the hell?” Peter asked, startled. “What’s the trick?” 

 

“No tricks. Just a very very sharp knife.” Wade demonstrated again, removing increasingly thin slices from the tomato without ever touching it with anything but the knife.

 

Peter suddenly was a lot less skeptical about Wade’s hair test claim. He reached over and plucked a few slices of tomato from the board and added them to his burrito.

 

He chewed thoughtfully for a few moments as he watched Wade clean up his work station. In many things, Wade was more than a little bit careless, but he did always take good care of his weapons, at least. And Peter. It gave him a weird sort of warm fuzzy feeling to compare himself to Wade’s knives, but it wasn’t  _ bad _ by any means.

 

“What’s the face?” Wade asked when he returned to start on his breakfast.

 

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

 

“Thinking about happy things?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Wade was grinning.

 

“What?” Peter returned the grin with a smile.

 

“You’re cute when you’re thinking happy thoughts.”

 

Peter sputtered at the compliment but was saved from having to reply by his phone pinging with a new text message. 

 

_ Ned [09:12]: u busy _

 

_ Peter [09:12]: no what’s up _

 

_ Ned [09:13]: Want to go ice skating w/ MJ and me? _

_ Ned [09:13]: @ Lasker Rink _

_ Ned [09:13]: Around noon _

 

“Do we have any plans that I’m forgetting about?” Peter asked.

 

“No, why? Is everything ok?”

 

“Yeah, everything’s good. Ned and MJ are going ice skating, and they want me to come.”

 

“That sounds like fun, you should totally go do that.”

 

Peter paused before replying to Ned’s texts. “Do you want to come?”

 

Wade shook his head. “Nah, that’s ok. I still have tons and tons of knives to sharpen!” When Peter just gave him an uncertain look, Wade continued. “Go have fun with your friends, Pete. Stop being Spider-Man for a day and just go be Peter Parker.”

 

He hoped that even half of the fondness he felt at Wade’s words managed to make it into his expression.

 

Peter stood and made his way over to his laptop, and changed the song that was playing. He returned to the table, holding his hand out towards Wade. Wade only gave him a questioning look. “I know I’m really late, but I’m pretty sure I owe you a waltz.”

 

Wade laughed and hopped to his feet, and the two of them spun and danced to Celine Dion’s “Right Next to the Right One” on repeat for the next half-hour before Peter remembered that he should probably text Ned back.

 

_ Peter [09:47]: Sorry yeah I’ll come _

 

_ Ned [09:48]: Where’d you go _

 

_ Peter [09:48]: We were busy being an exemplary gay couple _

 

_ Ned [09:48]: rofl _

_ Ned [09:48]: Oh yeah?  _ 😉

 

_ Peter [09:49]: We were dancing get your mind out of the gutter _

 

_ Ned [09:49]: no _

 

_ Peter [09:50]: I’ll see you later _

 

“So, you know how to skate?” Wade asked once Peter shoved his phone away and dropped down on the couch.

 

“Yeah. It’s been a while, though.” He stretched his arms up above his head. “A few years?” He thought back. “Like… since before I got bit.”

 

“Really? If it’s been a while, you need to be really careful then. Don’t—”

 

“Wade, no. This is gonna be  _ awesome! _ And maybe a bit weird. But mostly awesome!”

 

* * *

 

Peter had been right. Skating now that he had his Spidey Powers  _ was  _ weird. And awesome! He had always had good balance on the ice, but this was like something completely new. He had to refrain from pushing himself just to see what all he could manage now. 

 

MJ’s yell of “Do a Flip!” hadn’t helped his self-control. Nor had having to sit back and watch a guy take a really nasty fall that he could have easily prevented. But a normal person wouldn’t have been able to cross the 150 feet that separated them fast enough. That didn’t stop him from getting to his side as quickly as he dared and helping him limp off of the ice.

 

“Thanks, kid,” he said gruffly when he sat down on a bench. “I’ve got it from here.”

 

“You sure? I can—”

 

“Daddy!”

 

“Harold!”

 

A woman and small girl rushed to the man’s side. 

 

“Don’t worry about Daddy,” he said. “I’m tougher than that.”

 

Peter smiled faintly as the man comforted his daughter. He gave them a small wave as he headed back to the rink. 

 

It wasn’t his job to take care of everyone, he reminded himself firmly. Even though he could have done something about this one. He could have kept a man from getting hurt, and he could have kept a wife and daughter from worrying.

 

“Everything alright?” MJ asked as she slowed to a stop at the side of the rink. “It didn’t look like he was bleeding or anything, but—”

 

“He’ll be ok,” Peter assured her, hoping he was right. When he glanced back he could see the family leaving, and the man’s limp seemed to already be improving. Or he was putting on a show to keep them from worrying. 

 

“You’re a good dude, Pete,” MJ told him. “Most people wouldn’t have stopped.” She gestured back towards the dozens of people who were still skating and laughing happily. “Most people didn’t even notice.”

 

_ Most people kind of suck, _ he didn’t say. Then frowned a little at the thought. People were busy, and focused on their own situation. He’d probably only noticed because he was so used to looking out for things like that.

 

“You gonna get back in here, or are you all funned out?” MJ asked.

 

He only hesitated a moment before taking the opportunity to leap down the steps and back onto the ice. 

 

“Where’s Ned?”

 

MJ jerked her head back in Ned’s direction. He was staying close to the side of the rink and skating slowly and carefully around. 

 

“Is...Is he having fun?” 

 

“I mean, this was his idea.”

 

They started shouting loud and enthusiastic encouragement at him until he caught up to where they were. 

 

“You’re standing too straight,” Peter offered as soon as Ned was in range.

 

“What? You’re standing up straight!”

 

“I’m also not skating right now. Bend your knees and keep your weight towards the balls of your feet.”

 

Ned huffed at his advice, but did try to follow it. 

 

It took a few tries, but eventually Peter and MJ were able to coach Ned away from the edge of the rink. 

 

“Go, Ned, go!” Peter cheered as his friend skated cautiously a few feet ahead of them. Really, he was going slow enough that he was more likely to lose his balance again, but at least he was  _ going. _

 

Eventually Ned and MJ decided that they were tired and brought the skating session to a close. Ned had even managed to gain enough confidence that Peter was able to stop worrying that he was going to fall and hurt himself.

 

They settled at a metal table with built-in benches. Peter had to sit facing away from the rink to keep himself from watching out for anyone else getting hurt.

 

“So, how's college going?” Peter asked.

 

Ned's eyes glazed over and MJ snorted. “It's something else,” she offered. “I think Midtown kind of shielded us from the brunt of just how fucking stupid people are.”

 

Peter laughed at her deadpan delivery. “It can't be that bad.”

 

“No, it can be,” Ned disagreed. “And worse. If you throw enough money at a school, they'll let just about anyone in.”

 

“I mean… yeah. Midtown was that way, too.”

 

“Yeah, but we're still freshmen,” Ned continued. “So there are tons of people who are just there to half-ass stuff and blow their parents’ money.” He ended in a whine.

 

“Yeah, yeah, say what you will. I'm still excited to join you guys next year.”

 

“Oooh,” MJ perked back up. “You started your application?”

 

“I finished my application,” he corrected.

 

“And they saw your SAT scores and threw disgusting amounts of cash at you?”

 

Peter shrugged half-heartedly. “Yeah, pretty much.”

 

“Well, good for you. You can come join in our misery,” MJ smiled.

 

“Do you two even have any of the same classes?”

 

“We're in English Comp together. Gotta do all the pre-reqs and stuff before we get to the good stuff,” Ned explained.

 

“Ew. Isn't that what high school was for?”

 

“You're gonna be bored to tears your first semester,” MJ warned him. “And like 80% of the class will act like they've never even seen a semicolon before.” She stretched. “Three more semesters of that, then hopefully they'll have weeded out the worst of it and rest of us can get on with  _ actually  _ learning something.”

 

“You're all heart,” Ned nudged at her shoulder. “She's not wrong, though. She's just mean.”

 

“I'm only mean because if I have to hear one more explanation of how to format a citation page, I'm going to throw something.”

 

“What about you?” Ned asked, shifting the subject. “How's your internship going?”

 

Peter blinked and his brain stalled out. What had he even been working on besides Spider-Man stuff lately? He'd been doing  _ something _ hadn't he?

 

“It's fine. Nothing terribly exciting,” he skirted.

 

“Nevermind the internship,” MJ cut him off and Peter let relief flood through him for a moment.

 

Right up until she leaned in closely and whispered, “How's Spider-Man stuff going?”

 

His attention snapped to Ned. “Dude.”

 

“I'm sorry!” Ned shrank back. “You were on the news, and you got shot, and I panicked!”

 

Well, that was fair, actually. “Oh,” was all he said. “Yeah, that's… yeah. Uh, it's going fine. Keeping an eye out for the little guy and all that.” 

 

“And fighting giant wolves.”

 

“Yeah, and that,” he agreed. “I mean, that was hopefully just a one-time thing.” Peter dragged a hand through his hair. “What all did Ned tell you?”

 

“Everything he knew. Like how you got bitten on that field trip and decided to just  _ not tell anyone.” _

 

“Not my proudest moment.”

 

“And that you made Ned promise to continue not telling anyone and kept it from me for  _ two years.” _

 

“Well—”

 

“And that you're dating  _ Deadpool.” _

 

Peter's eyes snapped back to Ned. He was  _ pretty sure _ that Wade wouldn't mind MJ knowing, but still. “That wasn't your secret to tell.”

 

“Don't get mad at him, Peter,” MJ said quickly. “After the initial slip I nagged him for a solid three days before he really said anything else.” 

 

He hummed and relaxed his posture. He hadn't really been mad or anything. “Well, now you know, so next time just ask me about stuff.”

 

“Ok!” MJ agreed, leaning across the table. “What's he like?”

 

“Deadpool? Or Wade?”

 

MJ's face lit up in a way that gave Peter pause. She looked too excited by his question. 

 

“Is there a difference?”

 

“Sort of,” he offered. “I mean, there's a difference between me being me, and me being Spider-Man.”

 

His friends shared a knowing glance. “Barely,” Ned said. “You act a little different, but I think it's mostly a confidence or anonymity thing.”

 

“Good to know you paid attention back in Mr. Wolfe's class,” MJ teased before turning back to look at Peter expectantly.

 

He sighed. “DP's very…” He trailed off, trying to think of the right words to say. “Single-minded? But most people probably don't really get that, since he's cracking jokes and telling people off the whole time. Or flirting inappropriately with  _ everyone,” _ he added before the thought had finished forming. 

 

“Jealous?” MJ asked.

 

“No. The way he flirts with me is different, so it's fine.” 

 

“What about Wade? Does he flirt too much, too?”

 

Peter shook his head. “He only really flirts with his friends. Some of them, at least. He's more… Well, not subdued. At least not around me. I don't know, it's hard to explain. He's just more complex when he's being  _ Wade.” _

 

He didn't really feel inclined to share more of the differences. Ned and MJ knew Deadpool's reputation, he didn't need to make any misconceptions they might have any worse.

 

“See,” Ned grinned. “Anonymity.”

 

“Hmm, maybe,” Peter conceded. 

 

“Speaking of anonymity…”

 

“Oh, Jesus,” Ned sighed at MJ's segue.

 

“What’s,  _ Oh Jesus?”  _ Peter asked.

 

“Shut up, Ned.” She said before pulling out her phone. “Ok, so I've started doing some preliminary work on a project idea I have, right?”

 

“She's harassing everyone we know,” Ned translated.

 

“And I'm  _ asking people _ to fill out some online surveys,” she explained. “Because I'm looking into people's willingness to divulge things about their personalities via anonymous quizzes and games that they probably wouldn't share otherwise.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Peter straightened up, interested. “Like racist or sexist beliefs, or what?”

 

“I'm hoping my Prof will let me go down that route eventually. It was easier to get her to sign off on a quiz about sex, though.”

 

“A quiz about sex?”

 

“Yeah. Kind of a, “What kind of sexual deviancy are you into?” type of thing.”

 

“Ok,  _ that _ quiz was actually pretty fun,” Ned admitted. At Peter's questioning look he continued. “I've taken dozens of quizzes for her over the break, Pete. Dozens. We're not even in class, we're supposed to be relaxing!”

 

Peter chuckled at his half-hearted complaints. “So you need a fresh victim?”

 

“And I want to be able to blackmail my friends by finding out what kind of kinky shit they like.”

 

He rolled his eyes and pulled out his own phone. “Yeah, alright. Give me the link.”

 

After a few seconds MJ's text came through and Peter clicked on the link and poked his way through the handful of demographic questions. “Alright. For  _ you _ ,” he emphasized.

 

Online quizzes  _ were _ fun, after all. Plus, he got to help his friend with her project. A win-win, he thought.

 

Until he read the first question.

 

_ “I like to be dominated, especially in the bedroom.” _ He raised his eyebrow at his friends, then looked back at the phone. Did he like that? Or, could he? He was pretty sure that nothing he and Wade had done would qualify as “dominating” the other. 

 

“Aww, Pete, you’re already blushing and you’re only on the first page.” MJ reached over and ruffled his hair.

 

“Stop that,” he complained. He didn’t mention that technically he was still only on the first question. He decided he was neutral for that question and moved on.

 

Some of the questions were easier. He was pretty confident he wasn’t interested in pain during sex. (But it also mentioned bruises, and he had really liked the hickeys Wade had left. Did that count?) And he definitely wasn’t willing to sell porn clips of himself. Not that anyone would want to see that anyway.

 

He froze at one of the questions.

 

_ If I could not fulfill all of my partner's sexual desires, I would encourage them to see other people to fill the gaps. _

 

Peter ran a hand through his hair and stared down at his phone. 

 

It was an undeniable fact that Wade had a higher sex drive than he did. He was a lot more responsive to… Well, just about everything, really, than Peter was. 

 

But the thought of Wade with  _ someone else _ made something possessive rise up and snarl in his chest.

 

“What’s wrong?” Ned asked. “You’re making your upset face.”

 

“I’m not upset,” Peter muttered, and realized he was lying only after he was done saying it. 

 

“Hey, we’re your friends,” MJ reminded him. “You can talk to us about shit.”

 

“Yeah, I know, but.” He sighed and read off the question.

 

MJ’s expression darkened. “Peter. Is Wade—”

 

“No!” Peter huffed and locked his phone. “Jesus, why does everyone keep assuming Wade’s like… pressuring me and shit?”

 

“Probably because none of us have really met him.” MJ crossed her arms.

 

“Ned’s met him!”

 

Ned blinked. He didn’t seem to have expected to be pulled into their argument. “Er.” He glanced quickly between the two of them. And then sided with MJ. “Like, twice? And don’t get me wrong, he seemed like a nice guy, but…” He shrugged.

 

Peter deflated as quickly as he’d risen to defend Wade. They were right, they didn’t know him. May and MJ and  _ everyone _ were just trying to look out for him. And he was acting like a petulant kid again.

 

“Sorry,” he crossed his arms and sank into his coat. “You’re right, you guys don’t know him. But he’s not pressuring me or anything.”

 

“But he  _ does _ want to have sex?” MJ prodded.

 

“Of course.” Peter was pretty sure he was blushing again, which was ridiculous. This shouldn’t be so fucking embarrassing.

 

“But you guys… aren’t?” Ned hedged.

 

Peter poked at the holes in the woven metal that made up the table rather than try to look at either of them in the face. “We are…”

 

When he didn’t continue, Ned scooted from his bench to share the one Peter was on and bumped their shoulders together. “But?”

 

“I, uh.” He cleared his throat and stared harder at the table.

 

MJ stood up from the table. “Hey, I’m gonna go grab us some hot chocolate. It’s cold as hell out here.”

 

Once she was clear, Peter groaned.

 

“Dick problems?”

 

Peter burst out with a laugh at the unexpected question. “Jesus, dude. No.” He looked up at Ned’s awkward smile. “Or, maybe, I don’t fucking know. I don’t think so.” He glanced around to make sure they were a reasonable distance from other people. “It’s more like… Wade is definitely  _ more _ interested in sex than I am, though? Or, more often?”

 

“Does it bother you?”

 

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “Not… not Wade wanting to have sex. That’s…” he shifted again. “I like that part. That he uh…  _ wants me. _ But it bothers me that a lot of the time I’m not—”

 

“Does it bother Wade?” Ned interrupted his building spiral.

 

He shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s never said anything, but like… How could it not, right?”

 

Ned only returned his shrug. “I… Not that I’m an expert or anything, obviously.” It was Ned’s turn to look embarrassed. Peter probably shouldn’t have felt as validated by it as he did. “But I know me and MJ aren’t always on the same...I dunno, wavelength?”

 

“What do you guys do when—. Sorry, that’s none of my business.”

 

“Pfft. I’m over here asking about  _ your _ sex life, I think it’s fair for you to ask back.” He sat up straighter to keep an eye on where MJ was in line to get their drinks from the vendor. “But also never tell her that we talked about it.”

 

“You think she’d care?”

 

“No, but she’d tease me forever.”

 

Peter grinned despite himself, and he felt something loosen in his chest. “So?”

 

“So we do something else. Like play video games or cuddle or whatever. And yeah, sometimes it’s kind of frustrating, because we both have class and work all the time, so when we  _ do _ get time together… But it is what it is, right? Sometimes it works out, and sometimes it doesn’t.”

 

“You sound like Wade.”

 

“In a good way?”

 

“Sure. A little patronising, but you know. Aside from that.”

 

MJ had collected their drinks and Peter could see her giving Ned a questioning look from where she stood a few feet to the side from the line. 

 

Peter gave her a thumbs up and waved her back over.

 

“You both suck,” he said, taking his drink. “Manipulating me and shit.”

 

“Yeah, we’re the worst,” MJ drawled. “Caring about you. Wanting to spend time with you. Making sure you’re happy and that we don’t have to kick your boyfriend’s ass.”

 

She took a sip of her drink before continuing. “Actually, I might hit him at least once anyway.”

 

“What? Why?”

 

“He shot you.”

 

“No. I mean, yeah, he did, but it wasn’t like that, he was being controlled.”

 

He could see that they both had questions about that statement, but MJ continued her thought rather than ask anything. “But he still shot you. That means your friends get one free punch.”

 

Peter smiled and enjoyed the way the way the hot chocolate warmed him from the inside out. “I’ll give him a heads up on that.”

 

“Good.” MJ was smiling too. “We’ll go on a double date, Ned and I will hit him, and then we’ll have dinner or go bowling or something.”

 

Ned sputtered into his drink. “I’m not going to hit him!”

 

“Oh, c’mon, Ned. Think about it. Then you can tell people you got to punch Deadpool,” she grinned.

 

They laughed and teased each other for a while longer, until the sun started to threaten to set. 

 

“Ok, it’s gonna get  _ really _ cold soon. Call it a day?” Peter asked.

 

“Yeah, we probably should.” Ned stood and stretched. “We’re doing this again soon, right?”

 

“Very soon,” Peter agreed. 

 

“You two ok getting back to your dorms?”

 

MJ’s eyes lit up mischievously. “Nope,” she chirped. “I think we totally need an escort.”

 

Ned mirrored Peter’s confused expression. “We do?”

 

“Yes. From Spider-Man.”

 

“You can’t be serious.”

 

“Oh, I am. I am so serious. Please tell me you have your suit with you.”

 

“Fine.” Peter groaned and unzipped his coat enough to show that he was wearing his suit under his shirt. “But I’m not carrying you.”

 

“Is that an  _ option?” _ Ned brightened.

 

“No, I just said it wasn’t. Gimme a minute, you vultures.”

 

Peter shook his head and strode off, sending them dirty looks over his shoulder as he went. He eventually found a quiet abandoned place and pulled his mask out of his pocket. He balled up his clothing and webbed it to the side of the building. He’d have to come back to get them.

 

Getting back to his friends was a whole new adventure. He hadn’t realized how many people were still in the park until they were shouting hellos and waving at him. He didn’t think he had enough energy for the level of socialization that  _ walking _ them back to campus was going to involve.

 

“Alright, I lied,” he announced as he returned to their table. “I’m carrying you. Fewer people that way.” He paused. “You two aren’t afraid of heights are you?”

 

“No, but…” Ned glanced down at himself. “Kind of worried carrying me might hurt you.”

 

Peter just blinked at him. “I can literally pick you up with one hand.”

 

“Liar,” MJ said immediately.

 

“Please don’t prove it,” Ned said immediately. “I believe you.” 

 

MJ pouted for a moment. “You’re a troublemaker,” Peter told her. “Alright, kids, let’s get to the edge of the park so I actually have something to swing from.”

 

Ned and MJ kept stride with him, and when he glanced over, they were both grinning. At least they were having fun.

 

Of course as soon as they were in the air, Peter had a hard time trying to convince himself that he wasn’t  _ also _ having a great time. Ned was clinging to his back, and he held MJ carefully with his left arm.  Carrying both of them was definitely more awkward than he’d anticipated, and at least once he miscalculated what their additional weight would do to his webs and they swung closer to the ground than he’d have preferred.

 

Thankfully MJ at least seemed to think it was intentional and whooped gleefully as they rose back into the air. After that he opted to aim higher than was probably necessary. He’d never forgive himself if either of them got hurt because of him.

 

“That was pretty great,” MJ grinned at him as she ran her hands over her hair. “Thanks for the lift, Spidey.”

 

Ned looked like he’d have preferred to keep to the ground. “It was certainly... faster than walking.” 

 

Peter snorted. “You alright?”

 

“Peachy.” Ned straightened up. “See you around, Spider-Man. Thanks for everything.”

 

He wanted to give Ned shit for teasing him, but he sounded like he meant it. “Anytime,” he said instead. 

 

Several other students—and at least one person that Peter was pretty sure was faculty of some sort—were staring at them. 

 

“Stay in school. Study hard.” He pointed finger guns at them and started walking backwards. 

 

He had really hoped to make a quick exit before anyone got bold enough to come say hi, but honestly, who was he kidding? There was never a quick enough exit in the world to manage that. Instead he spent the next 30 minutes being mobbed by people in the area wanting to talk to him. At least the bottom right of his hud showed that Ned was sending him apologetic text messages.

 

MJ was taking pictures and sending them. His friends were either amazing or they sucked. He couldn’t decide which.

 

By the time he was back in the air, the cold of the night had really started to set in. A few test swings told him that it wasn’t the weather that had affected the elasticity of his webbing, at least. 

 

And try as he might to focus on what might be going on with his webs, his mind kept wandering back to that stupid quiz and the unwelcome feeling that he wasn’t  _ enough.  _ That maybe Wade wasn’t getting his needs met, and that maybe Peter was being selfish for hating the idea of Wade seeking out anyone else. Even if it was  _ just sex. _

 

That  _ was _ something people did right? Just have sex for the sake of it? No feelings or emotions attached? That was certainly what Tony had said all those months ago, at least.

 

He dropped down a block away from where he’d ditched his clothing and waited until he could return to the alley and retrieve them. It was late. He just wanted to be at home and warm and curled up with Wade. He could think about the rest later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooooo~
> 
> Quick important note: Sexuality ≠ Libido  
> Very specifically Peter happens to have a low libido along side his asexuality. That's not a prerequisite for asexuality in any way. 
> 
> But we'll get into that more in chapter three. :)

_ Take your time, hurry up _ __   
_ The choice is yours, don't be late _ __   
_ Take a rest as a friend _ __   
_ As an old _ _   
_ __ Memoria

—Come As you Are, _ Nirvana _

 

**Wade**

When Wade returned home that afternoon, it was with a perfectly reasonable amount of cheeseburgers and fries (if you took into account that the people eating them were both gifted with crazy overactive metabolisms, which he did). He'd have set the bags on the table, as per usual, except that the table already had a few dozen pages of graph paper scattered across it.

Peter was working on… something. There were a lot of numbers involved. And symbols that he didn't know the meanings of, but he was pretty sure he'd seen them in Peter's textbooks before.

“What cha’ working on?” he asked after abandoning the bags in the kitchen instead. This would probably wind up being more interesting than food anyway.

“What does it look like?” Peter's voice sounded tense, but he _looked_ perfectly fine as he held up one of his web shooters.

“Math?” Wade offered.

There, that got an affectionate smile (and an eye roll, but still!)

“Sure, in that everything is math,” Peter tapped his pencil lead against the paper in front of him.

“What would you call this then?”

Peter opened his mouth to answer, then must have thought better of whatever he was going to say. “How familiar are you with Newtonian Mechanics?”

Wade glanced between the web shooter and the calculations Peter had been drawing out. “Uh, like, speedy thing goes in, speedy thing comes out?”

The way Peter's face lit up—whether at his Portal reference, or because he was right, he didn't know—made Wade's chest go all warm and fuzzy.

“Yes, actually! Or well, this is similar.” Peter scooted the chair around so that he was properly facing Wade. “You know how my webs are really strong?”

“I'm well aware, yes.”

“Well, they're also a bit elastic. Not, like, a bungee cord or anything but... Well, here, it's easier to show you.”

Peter had yet to give in and let Wade play or fiddle with the web shooters, so this was the closest he'd gotten to seeing how they actually worked.

He watched Peter shift his wrist and…? Did he hit a button? He had to have hit a button or something. Because a thin strand of webbing shot free and stuck to Peter's other hand.

The strand was maybe six inches long. He knew Peter was trying to explain something but he couldn't stop himself from asking: “How did you keep it so short?”

“Huh? Oh. C'mere.” He carefully maneuvered the hand that was trailed webbing off to the side so that Wade had room to step closer and examine the shining metal around his wrist.

“When I do this,” Peter repeated the wrist movement he'd seen him do a hundred times, but this time it was much slower. When his wrist flexed a small tab extended, just in reach of Peter's ring finger. “I use this little button to send out the webbing. The longer I hold it down, the more webbing gets extruded.”

“Oh. That's… actually really simple.”

Peter was smiling again. “How'd you think it worked?”

“Magic?”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he teased. “But I was only 15 when I designed the prototypes. And yeah, these get stuck less, and they're a lot sleeker and all that, but the basic principles are still the same.”

He wiggled the hand with the dangling thread again. “So, like I was saying, it's elastic.” He grabbed hold of the base of the strand and pulled.  Peter stood up to show him that the the 6 inches of webbing easily(?) stretched out across his arm span. “And I'm not exactly worried about the strength of it, you know? But—”

“Wait.”

“What?”

“Since when is it so stretchy?”

“Uh, pretty much always?”

“Does it just stick to itself really well? Is that why it's so hard to get out of? Because you've webbed me a few times and I've never been able to move that much in it.”

Peter just chuckled as he folded the now several foot long thread up on itself a few times. Whatever the webs were made of, it seemed to seek itself out and bond into a thicker rope at the first opportunity.

“Yeah, it bonds to itself really readily. And that makes it even stronger.” He demonstrated by pulling at the web again. It didn't seem to stretch as readily that time. “But also this has a tensile strength of over 25 megapascals—uh.” Peter closed his eyes for a moment. “Around 4000 PSI?”

“No fucking way. That's… that's absurd. You're not _that_ strong… are you?”

“Aren't I?” Peter grinned.

Wade stared for several long moments. He knew Peter was strong—that much was obvious—but this was something else entirely. "4000…" he repeated quietly.

_You're getting distracted,_ White scolded.

"Huh?" He blinked a few times to get himself to stop his eyes to stop roving over Peter's deceptively lithe form.  "Sorry."

Peter balled up the line of webbing and looked at him curiously. "For what?"

What had they been talking about?

"You uh. You said you're not worried about their strength? What are you worried about?"

"Right now they're fine for when I'm just swinging myself around. But if I'm carrying anything heavier than groceries, they're stretching more than I want them too."

"Even though they're so strong?"

"Yeah. Which makes sense. Just about anything is going to react differently to a 350lb pendulum than a 150lb one. But as it is, that means I'm having to pay way more attention to all the other variables than I'm usually doing."

"Usually… what does that mean?"

Whatever stress had been plaguing Peter visibly fell away and he came _alive_ as he started to explain what went on in his head while he was throwing himself through the skies with his webs. And Wade tried to follow, he really really did, but fairly quickly all his brain managed to provide was _math._

While going through the city at nearly a hundred miles an hour, Peter was doing math. Constantly. Planning for trajectories and wind resistance and the fucking material of whatever the other end of his web was attached to at a given time. Because apparently glass and concrete and steel all reacted differently to the stress Peter put them under.

"But like I said, most of that is just background noise at this point. I mean, I've been exercising and I've gained some weight so that's changed things a little, but not enough to worry me. But when I'm carrying someone else all the variables change, you know?"

No, Wade didn't know. Not really. But he could kind of get the picture. "Is that why you always tell me to shut up when you're carrying me?"

Peter gave him a warm smile. "Yeah, I'm a big fan of not throwing us into buildings by accident."

There were only a few feet between them and all thoughts of food and hunger were forgotten as Wade crossed them, pulling Peter in for a kiss. The younger man let out a squeak of surprise but quickly melted into the attention."Jesus Christ you're so fucking smart," Wade breathed.

Peter's chuckle reverberated between them. "Yeah? My giant brains turning you on?"

"Everything about you turns me on," he admitted easily.

He caught the brief crinkling of _something_ around Peter's eyes, but it quickly smoothed out into his usual pleased flush at Wade's comments.

"I've always been a big fan of your wit, especially when you're multitasking and also kicking Bad Guy butt at the same time. But now I know half the time you're _also_ doing crazy math stuff and just… I don't know how your mouth keeps up with your brain."

"Well, I have a very talented mouth."

Wade waited for Peter's usual reaction for after he accidentally blurted out something _that_ full of innuendo. But while Peter might have been blushing a little harder, he wasn't trying to backtrack or stumbling over his words.

Nope. Peter had just said that. On purpose. And was now watching for Wade's reaction.

"Fuck, Baby Boy," Wade pulled him closer and let him feel just how interested he was in Peter's "talented mouth". "You wanna show it off?" he purred.

He watched Peter's throat work as he swallowed. "Yeah. I do."

Peter stepped forward and started leading him backwards to their couch. "Table," he warned as they sidestepped it.

And then Peter pushed him back onto the couch and sank down to his knees and _holy shit_ he was never going to stop being amazed that Peter wanted this. Wanted him. They could fuck for the next 100 years and he was still going to be filled with just as much awe.

Wade watched as Peter undid his belt and jeans, seeming single-mindedly determined to get to his cock as quickly as possible.

Not that he wasn't just as focused on having Peter's mouth on his cock ASAP, but something about Peter's entire lack of teasing made something prickle in the back of his mind.

"I'm not going anywhere, Pete," he promised, leaning forward. He cupped the side of Peter's face gently.

Peter looked startled at his words. "I know." He blinked up at him. "I just…"

"You just?"

"I love you," Peter offered, leaning forward to nuzzle against Wade's thigh. "And I like sucking your dick."

Every other coherent thought in Wade's head died away as Peter locked eyes with him and made a fucking show of licking the palm of his hand.

"Love you, too," he managed when Peter freed his cock and gave it several slow teasing strokes.

200 years, he amended. They could fuck for the next 200 years and he'd still gasp and jerk at the lightest touch because it was _Peter._

Peter who, by some marvel, wasn't bothered by the angry red scars that covered his body, or by the voices in his head, or even by the fact that at any given time he wasn't always sure what was real.

But as Peter's mouth sank down around his cock, he knew _that_ was real. Everything with Peter felt real and Good. Even the Bad things, like arguing, or getting injured. Even the Bad things somehow found a way to be Good.

He moaned as Peter bobbed his head and flattened his tongue, easing Wade much further into his mouth. His eyes had slid closed, and he hummed as Wade's cock brushed the back of his throat.

As soon as Peter pulled back to get a breath Wade was tugging insistently on his shirt. "Pete, Spidey, Baby, up here. Please." He was feeling too much to not be able to have his hands all over Peter.

Peter came up willingly, pulling off his dick and pressing a kiss to the head before crawling up onto the couch. Once he was straddling Wade's legs his hand snaked between them to continue stroking his cock.

Wade groaned out a rough series of vowel sounds and dug his fingers into Peter's hair, pulling him into a hungry kiss. _Fuck_ he could taste the bitterness of himself on Peter's tongue and the realization had him bucking up into his fist.

"Love you like this," Peter whispered.

The hand not tangled in Peter's hair trailed down the side of his neck, then ghosted down his ribs. He wanted Peter to feel this too. To feel everything.

But when his hand finally pressed between Peter's legs, it was to find that he wasn't hard. At all.

"'S'fine," Peter assured him as Wade moved his hand back to Peter's side.

Wade wanted to believe him. Especially as Peter's hand tightened around his cock because _holy shit,_ _yes._ Peter had told him countless times that he wouldn't do anything he didn't _want_ to do.

_You actually thought he wanted you,_ Yellow sneered.

_Don't start._

As if that had ever worked.

And then all the voices would let him think about was how tense Peter had been when he first got home. Those moments of hesitation and something that now felt like uncertainty while they flirted.

He felt predatory.

"Get out of your head, Babe," Peter said, pressing their foreheads together.

Wade dropped a hand to Peter's wrist. "Peter, I'm sorry."

"No," Peter said firmly. Then, "Why?"

"I…" _I made you feel like you have to do things like this for me to stay,_ he didn't say. Couldn't make himself say.

"You don't have—" he cut himself off at Peter's frustrated expression.

"Don't you dare finish that sentence." Peter released him and was up off the couch in one fluid movement.

"Pete, I'm—"

"I don't want to hear it." Peter raked a hand through his hair and paced the floor. "You don't get to just—" He broke off, and all Wade could see was the _hurt_ on Peter's face.

He tucked himself back into his pants and stood up. "Spidey." But when he reached out towards Peter, Peter just took a step back, hurt shifting to… Shit, was Peter _mad?_

"You don't get to decide what I do and don't want," Peter hissed before stalking past him.

Wade turned in time to see Peter grab his coat and couldn't do anything but watch as the elevator doors closed.

He could hear the sound of a slow clap from the back of his mind but didn't have the energy to figure out who was playing it.

Panic squeezed at his chest.

Peter had left. Peter had left because he was _angry_.

Because Wade was just a colossal fuck up.

 

* * *

 

**Peter**

He wanted to hit something, Peter had decided. It probably wasn’t where his mind should go when he was frustrated and angry, but it’s where it went all the same.

Thankfully he had access to a state-of-the-art gym with equipment built to withstand super soldiers. Which didn’t mean he didn’t still have to pull his punches.

And it wasn’t enough. He wanted to hit something as hard as he could. He wanted to be _allowed_ to hit something as hard as he could.

He wanted to just _be himself_ and have that be ok.

He wasn’t alone. Someone was walking slowly and quietly behind him. Trying to sneak up on him.

Peter’s Senses didn’t go off but he caught the glint of metal and _reacted._ He was up the chain holding up the sandbag he’d been hitting and webbing his would-be assailant before they could get any closer.

“Oh, shit, Bucky!”

Bucky looked stunned from his position flat on his back, covered in webs.

He dropped back to the ground and pulled him free. “I’m so sorry.”

Once he was able to sit up Bucky just laughed. “Holy _shit_ you’re fast.”

“Why’d you try to sneak up on me?” Peter huffed, turning back to the bag.

“Mostly just to see if I could,” the other man admitted.

Peter growled and swung hard at the bag. He’d been right. His strength had been more than enough to break the damned thing.

Bucky whistled as what looked like sand—but probably wasn’t—streamed from the bag. “You ok, kid?”

“I’m not a kid.”

“Everyone’s a kid compared to me,” Bucky said easily, his metal hand coming to rest on Peter’s shoulder.

He glanced up to catch Bucky’s expression. It didn’t feel patronizing or pitying. Plus, it was hard to argue with his statement.

“Everything ok?” Bucky asked when Peter didn’t say anything.

“Peachy.”

“Yeah, you seem totally peachy. C’mon, what’s got you all burned up?”

Peter frowned and shook Bucky’s hand away. “You said it yourself. I’m a kid compared to you. You don’t want to hear about my problems.”

Bucky snorted, “Don't go thinking I'm being altruistic. Listening gets my mind off my own shit.”

He huffed, taking a moment to figure out what he wanted to say and how. He'd worked with Bucky enough to know that he wasn't exactly the judgemental type, but something in the back of his mind told Peter that his concerns weren't _normal_.

“Why the hell is sex so important anyway?” he blurted out. “It’s just everywhere lately. Or maybe I’m just really noticing it now?”

Judging from Bucky’s expression, that hadn’t been what he’d been expecting Peter to bitch about.

“Ok,” he said after a moment. “For what it’s worth, sex has always been everywhere.”

Peter just gave him an annoyed look.

“Are you just pissed off about commercialization or—”

“No, it’s.” He crossed his arms over himself. “It's normal to want to have sex with your boyfriend, right? Like, when you love someone, that usually means you want to have sex, right?”

“Yeah, generally speaking.”

“So… Does that mean I don't really love him, then?”

“Wade?”

Peter nodded. And nope, he was definitely not going to cry in front of Bucky.

“You don't want to have sex with Wade?”

“No. Well, I mean, I do, but it's not… Not like everyone else seems to. In general, I mean. Not.” He took a deep breath and tried to get his mind to focus on any one thing.

“Peter,” Bucky said carefully. “If you don't want to have sex, or if you're not ready, then—”

Peter knew that tone of voice. Knew it so well that it sent a fresh wave of anger through him.

“Jesus fuck, I don't mean it like that!” he snarled and stalked away. Only to turn “Wade has been infuriatingly careful and patient and that's not at all what I'm talking about! I don't care if we fuck or not!” His eyes and throat burned. “But I should, right? I'm supposed to care. I'm supposed to get turned on by the idea of sex, aren't I? So either I'm wrong about… And I don't love him, or I'm just fucking _broken.”_ The last word came out as a sob.

He had wondered if finally getting the thought out into the open might help. Might lessen the weight of it in his chest. But no, it just made it more real, more true.

There was something _wrong_ about him.

“Christ, Pete.” Bucky was across the room and pulling him into a hug before Peter had properly registered that he was moving.“You're not broken,” he said firmly.

“Then what's wrong with me?” Peter asked into Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky didn't answer right away, which made every part of Peter feel like he was going to break apart.

“I want to just say that nothin’s wrong,” Bucky finally answered. “And I don't think that anything _is,_ but I don't know that. I don't think you'd appreciate me coddling you.”

“No,” Peter agreed, and tried to match his breathing with Bucky's.

“You wanna sit down and talk about shit?”

“I just screamed at you for trying to help me.”

Bucky lead him over to a bench. “This might surprise you, but you're not exactly the first person who's screamed at me.”

Peter managed a small smile at that.

“You breathing ok now?”

He nodded.

“Ok. Let's try this again. We'll start at the basics. You love Wade?”

“I think I do but—”

“No buts. Look, forget about all the sex stuff for a minute.”

“But—”

“You just said you don't care about sex. So put that aside and focus on the rest of your relationship. Do you love him?”

“Yeah. But—”

“Fuckin’ stop with the buts.”

Peter blinked at Bucky's commanding tone.

“Sorry.”

“I don't want you to be sorry, I just want you to fucking listen.”

He didn't trust himself not to try to apologize again, so Peter only nodded.

“Ok, so, you love Wade and you don't care about sex, right?”

“Right.”

“But Wade cares about sex?”

“Well, yeah, but… Not in a bad way. I mean, he's never tried to talk me into anything or any of that.”

“Ok, so, what brought on this outburst?”

“Oh. Uh. Well, we were.” He shoved a hand through his sweat soaked hair and tried again. “Some of the time, when we're,” he gestured vaguely and hoped that was enough for Bucky to fill in whatever blanks needed filling. “I don't actually get turned on, so much. Which doesn't—I'm still enjoying it and all that, just not…”

“Just not sexually.” Bucky finished for him. “And one of those times was right before you came in here and broke my punching bag?”

“Sorry.”

“Don't worry about it, I'm sure Tony will be thrilled by the challenge to try to make something you can't break.”

He shrugged. “Wade seems to think that if I'm not horny, I'm not actually like… Consenting, or something.”

“Have you talked to him about this?”

Peter huffed. “Of course! Over and over! And he'll say he gets it but then still fucking puts a stop to things as soon as he notices anyway!” He sighed and hugged his arms around himself. “Which is better than _not_ stopping if I asked him to, I guess.”

“It's a lot better,” Bucky agreed.

“What if there _is_ something wrong with me, though? Like my hormones or something got all fucked up by that spider?”

“You're asking the wrong guy,” Bucky told him. “But Bruce is still here if you want to go talk to him?”

“He's not that kind of doctor.”

“So he keeps saying. But he _is_ an expert on radiation.”

“Oh, yeah, that's true!” He perked back up.

“And I might know someone who has a better understanding of what you're going through. I'll ask if they'd be willing to sit down and talk with you about it, ok?”

 

* * *

 

Peter paused before knocking on the door to Bruce’s lab. He could see Bruce leaning back in a chair, looking over some readouts that JARVIS was projecting for him. If what he was working on was important, then Peter didn’t want to interrupt.

The decision was made for him when Bruce glanced up and waved to him.

“Hey, sorry to bother you.”

“You’re not,” Bruce assured him. “Váli is asleep right now, so JARVIS and I are just keeping an eye on him for the moment.”

Peter crossed the lab to get a better look at the screen. In one corner was a video feed of Váli asleep in bed with Fenrir curled protectively around one side of him, and Hel stretched out on his other side.

“Is he ok?”

“Yeah. He woke up a few days ago. He’s been eating and drinking less than I’d like, and he’s still sleeping most of the time, but he seems to be lucid when he’s awake.”

Peter crossed his arms and leaned closer to the screen. “Where’s Sigyn?”

Bruce blew out a long breath. “Not here,” he said simply. “There was apparently quite the argument and Tony and Loki let her know that she’s not welcome here anymore.”

“The hell?”

“I still don’t have a coherent story of exactly what happened,” Bruce explained. “Tony was yelling quite a bit when he told me about it. The gist of it seemed to be that she has a very different idea of what are acceptable uses of magic and sorcery than the rest of us.”

Peter frowned. “Comforting.”

“Exactly.”

They watched the three sleep peacefully for a few more minutes. Váli just looked so young. It was hard to imagine he’d been, even indirectly, responsible for all of the stuff they’d dealt with over the last year or so.

“Did you need something, Peter?” Bruce asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Not that I mind if you just wanted to come over and hang out.”

“It is nice to see you back at The Tower,” Peter started. “But yeah, I did come find you for a reason.”

At Bruce’s gesture, Peter pulled a chair over to the table and sat down. He picked at his fingernails as he tried to figure out how he wanted to start.

“So, the spider that bit me… She was genetically altered by exposure to gamma radiation.”

“Right.”

“So… aside from the crazy stuff that we _know_ getting bitten did to me, what, uh. What other side effects might be possible?”

Bruce gave him a long considering look. “Well, Peter, you're a unique case. It's basically impossible to do more than guess at what else the spider might have done to you.”

“I was kind of afraid you'd say that,” Peter muttered.

“Do you have something in particular you're worried about? That could help us narrow it down.”

“Er, well, yeah, I do. And, full disclosure, this might have been a thing before I got bitten, too, but I don't know for sure. I never really realized it was weird or anything until pretty recently.”

“So nothing life threatening, then?”

“No, nothing like that,” Peter assured him. “More like… I don't know.”

Peter cleared his throat and tried to force himself to just bite the bullet. “I know you're not a medical doctor or anything, but we have some kind of doctor-patient confidentiality anyway, right?”

“Uh, not in any sort of legal or meaningful way, no. But you can speak to me in confidence. I'm not exactly one for gossip.” Bruce's expression had turned from polite interest to actual curiosity.

He had a hard time picturing Bruce doing much in the way of gossiping. “So, I uh… I don't get like… Aroused. Sexually. Uh, or, not very often.” He stared at a screw that joined the table's leg to its body.

“Ok,” Bruce said slowly. “That's not necessarily ”weird”. How often is “not very often?””

Peter shrugged. “I'm not exactly keeping track. Once a week or so, maybe? Sometimes it's probably more like two weeks, sometimes more often.”

“And when you say you're not aroused, do you mean you can't get an erection or—”

“No,” Peter interrupted. He felt his ears going red. He wondered if it would be more or less awkward if Bruce would quit using such impersonal phrasing. “It's not like an erectile dysfunction thing.” Because it couldn't have just been that fucking easy, of course not. “I can get my body to, you know, react. Physically. But I'm not actually, like… turned on.”

Bruce hummed thoughtfully. “So, I want to start by saying that I don't actually have any formal training in this sort of thing.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“But, from what you've said, it sounds like you might have a less active libido than what we'd expect at your age. Which isn't inherently a cause for concern.”

Peter had to fight back the urge to give him an irritated look. A quick Google search had told him that much. “Could it be from the spider?”

“Honestly? I have no idea. I could run some blood tests and see if there's anything noteworthy, but… Well, your “normal” isn't necessarily going to fall in line with what any averages suggest. As far as I know, you and I are the only two people to be exposed to radiation like we were and live to tell about it.”

“Technically it was the spider that was irradiated, not me,” Peter pointed out. Then, before he could think too hard about his question, “Well, what about you? Did the radiation affect your—” he stopped once his brain caught up. “S-sorry, that's really none of my business. Nevermind.”

“You're alright, Peter,” Bruce said gently. “Like I said, you and I are the entirety of our very small sample size, wanting to know my experience makes sense.”

“Oh, yeah, ok.” He looked back up at Bruce's face. “So, uh. Did it affect you? Like that?”

Bruce shook his head. “No. I still have pretty much the same libido I had before.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “But,” he added, seeing Peter’s disappointed expression, “in the spirit of fairness, I’ll share that I've chosen to remain celibate.”

Peter’s brows pulled together. “You don’t have to share stuff just because I am.”

“I know, but this is a hard conversation to have. I didn’t like how imbalanced we were.”

He couldn’t help but smile a little at the almost sheepish tone of Bruce’s voice. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Peter leaned back in his chair, feeling more at ease. “Do you mind sharing why?”

Bruce gave him a pointed look. “Why do you think?”

“Afraid of a Code Green during sex?”

“I don’t know how likely it is, but… It’s a risk that worries me,” he admitted.

Curiosity picked at the back of Peter’s mind. “What about Hulk?”

“What about him?”

“Does Hulk want to have sex?”

Bruce just blinked at him for a moment. “I… have no idea,” he said. “As far as I know, I think Hulk is pretty much asexual. I don’t think he’s ever shown any interest in sex, at any rate.” He scratched at the back of his head. “I’ll have to ask Thor to ask him sometime.”

“Asexual?” Peter asked. “What’s that?” He was _pretty sure_ that Bruce wasn’t suggesting that Hulk was capable of any sort of self-replication (although that would have been fascinating in it’s own right).

“A sexual orientation,” Bruce explained, “like heterosexuality or homosexuality, etcetera and so on.”

Peter leaned forward so fast that the chair made a distressed squeaking sound. “Right, but, what _is it?”_

“It’s what it sounds like. A lack of sexual attraction to others of any gender.”

“That’s actually a thing?” He was pretty sure he’d seen the word during his brief Google searches, but he hadn’t paid it any attention. But if it was something Bruce knew about...

“Sure,” Bruce looked amused at Peter’s reaction.

“So, like. You said Hulk’s not interested in sex?” At Bruce’s nod he continued. “Ok, so, what if someone was like… not _not_ interested, but also just like… more neutral about it?”

“Someone?”

“Fuck it. Me. What if I just—” He took a steadying breath. He was too excited to be embarrassed. “Like, I enjoy sex. But it’s not… I don’t know. I’d be ok with never having sex, too? Does that make sense?”

“It does,” Bruce nodded. “And it’s possible that you might fall on the asexual spectrum. I’ll e-mail you a few links so that you can learn some more about it.”

“That would be great. But… I mean, doesn’t enjoying sex kind of negate the whole asexual thing?”

“Why would it? There are more reasons to have sex than just sexual attraction.”

Peter considered that. “Like because it feels good and stuff?”

“That’s one example, yeah.”

He hummed, his eyes drifting back to the monitors. Váli had rolled over and draped his arm across Fenrir’s neck. Then he caught sight of the clock in the upper right corner of the screen. “Jesus, is that the time?” He grabbed his phone and sent off a text.

_Peter [02:03]: Time got away from me. Heading home. ♥_

“Need to go home?”

“Yeah. I _might_ have gotten pissed off at Wade and just walked out earlier.”

Bruce gave him a disapproving look.

“I know, I know, I’m not exactly proud of it.” He stood up and stretched. “But seriously, thank you Bruce. This has been really helpful.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Wade didn’t return his text until he was back down on the street.

_Wade [02:15]: See you soon. <3_

 

* * *

 

The elevator was barely halfway up the apartment building when the scent of chicken, turmeric, and ginger hit him. Who the hell was cooking at this hour?

Peter didn’t know why he bothered wondering. “Dude, what are you doing? It’s 2 in the morning.”

“I’m making chicken curry,” Wade offered, as though that wasn’t obvious.

“Why though?”

“Because I was an asshole and I figured that food was a good way to apologize.”

“You weren’t the asshole,” Peter shook his head. “I’m the one who just fucking walked out in the middle of a fight.”

Wade shifted uncomfortably and turned back to the stove. “ _Was_ that a fight?” he asked quietly.

“What else would you call it?” Peter pulled off his coat before joining Wade in the kitchen.

“Miscommunication?” He sounded hopeful.

Peter chuckled and wrapped his arm around Wade’s waist in a half-hug. “Sure. Still, I’m the one who walked out during our miscommunication. I think that makes me the asshole.”

“Fine. Then you can apologize by eating the food I’m making.”

“Deal.” He kissed Wade’s cheek before stepping away to give him room to finish their dinner. “And we should probably talk about it.”

“If you want, but... I just need to work on listening to you rather than them,” he tapped the side of his head.

“I feel like that’s a good plan in general. They’re assholes.”

“Yeah, you hear that, fuckfaces? Peter doesn’t like you either.”

Peter considered bringing up what he’d talked about with Bucky and Bruce. But it was late and there was food, and really, he didn’t even know what all might apply to him or not anyway. Bruce had said asexuality was a spectrum, and he wasn’t sure what that even meant.

He decided he’d wait until he’d had time to look over some of the links Bruce sent him before bringing things up with Wade.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a bit. You know... Life.  
> But chapter 4 is nearly done! (and now there will be a chapter 5 which is ALSO nearly done!)

_ Come doused in mud, soaked in bleach _ __   
_ As I want you to be _ __   
_ As a trend, as a friend _ __   
_ As an old _ _   
_ __ Memoria

—Come as You Are,  _ Nirvana _

 

Peter stretched his arms out above his head, and pushed his legs as far along the couch as he could manage. For some reason that he couldn’t quite name, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit annoyed that his feet couldn’t  _ quite _ reach the other arm of the couch.

Stupid unnecessarily long couches. 

He had started out trying to just wait patiently for the person Bucky had suggested he talk with. But he’d quickly realized that sitting still was just making him nervous so he grabbed his phone to start looking over the links that Bruce had sent him a few days before.

“‘What is asexuality dot com’,” Peter read off. “Well, they know their market, at least.” He clicked the link and read over the page.

The beginning of it was similar to what Bruce had said. It was just another sexual orientation, like being straight or gay. Except that it was a lack of attraction. That it was about how someone felt, not what someone  _ did. _ Dating, having sex, masturbating, falling in love, none of it conflicted with asexuality.

He couldn’t help but smile at the simple black-text-on-white-background way of just laying out facts.  _ Experiencing arousal or orgasm also does not conflict with asexuality. _

Then the page moved on and started talking about romantic and affectional orientations that described who someone might be romantically attracted to. How although for many people sexual and romantic orientations might be aligned, it wasn’t uncommon for asexuals to feel romantic attraction, even without sexual attraction.

The terms all seemed to parallel the ones he knew for sexual orientations. Homoromantic, heteroromantic, biromantic… Oh, there was also aromantic. Someone who didn’t experience romantic attraction. Although he was  _ pretty sure _ it didn’t apply to him, he still found it interesting (if a bit confusing) that people could experience sexual attraction without romantic attraction. But if it could work one way, why shouldn’t it be able to work the other way as well?

At the bottom of the page was a link: “Am I Ace?” Peter snorted and clicked on it, reading over the bulletpoints it provided.

  * Do you ever wonder what the big deal with sex is?



_ Sometimes, _ Peter admitted to himself. On one level he felt confident that he understood, but on another…

  * Have you ever wondered what's supposed to be so difficult about abstinence or celibacy?



Yep. That one he knew all too well. Admittedly he’d only recently started having sex at all, but still.

  * Do sex scenes in movies or books often seem forced, out of place, or completely unnecessary?



Peter had to think about that one. He could only think of a handful of times where a sex scene had really felt like it served the actual plot and characters. So, yeah… often.

  * Is sex boring for you?



Nope. Sex was many things, but “boring” wasn’t one of them. At least not sex with Wade. He giggled at the thought and was glad that no one but JARVIS was there to hear him.

“You don’t judge me, do you JARVIS?”

“Of course not, Sir.”

At the bottom of  _ that _ page were more links that caught his interest. Guides to asexuality. Clicking the first one he realized that they were just pages of affirmation and validation. That getting erections didn’t invalidate your identity. That having sex—that  _ enjoying _ sex—didn’t invalidate you. And even that just because he was a teenager, that didn’t mean he couldn’t still know what his preference was. Even if his preference was “no.”

Bruce’s next link was just the Wikipedia page about Asexuality. Thanks, Bruce.

He mentally revoked his scoff once he started reading, though. A lot of it was the same information he’d just read, but it was more impersonal. Facts, figures, quotes, and research filled the screen of his phone as he scrolled through it. He couldn’t help but feel mild annoyance that researchers didn’t seem to be capable of agreeing on a working definition, though. How was anyone supposed to do meta-analysis of their works if they were all defining asexuality differently?

And one of the research teams seemed to completely miss some of the point about asexuality entirely, stating that asexuals might have sex  _ just _ for the benefit of a romantic partner. 

Peter was pretty confident that that sort of thing qualified as unhealthy behavior in  _ any _ sort of relationship.

Still, their definition of subjective arousal was useful.  _ “...Scholars who study the physiology around asexuality suggest that people who are asexual are capable of genital arousal but may experience difficulty with so-called subjective arousal." This means that "while the body becomes aroused, subjectively – at the level of the mind and emotions – one does not experience arousal". _

The next link was from health.com, and it didn’t fare much better in Peter’s mind. It seemed like most researches were heavily equating sexual attraction with a desire to have sex. Or maybe Peter was the one who was just starting to get things confused. 

A different researcher’s comments seemed more in line with how Peter felt—that this wasn’t an issue of sexual dysfunction. He was perfectly capable of having sex and orgasming, thank you very much. 

And yet another pointed out that just because someone was sexually active, that didn’t make them any less asexual than a heterosexual person going through a “sexual dry spell” would make them less heterosexual.

“No sexual orientation is defined by whether or not you currently have a partner or are sexually active,” he muttered aloud.

Bruce had sent him more links, and he was about to click the next when his attention was pulled from his phone by the sound of the door opening.

He wasn't sure who he'd expected, but he was still startled when Natasha stepped through the doorway.

He didn’t think he’d ever seen her dressed down like she was then, in plain white sneakers and navy blue sweatpants and tank top. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, like she was planning to go for a run.

“How ya’ doing, Pete?”

“Good,” he replied automatically. Had they ever spoken one-on-one, even? “What are you… Are you the one Bucky asked to talk to me?”

“Yep.” She motioned for him to pull his feet up so that she could drop down on the couch with him. “You seem surprised.”

“I am.” There was really no point in trying to lie to her, after all. “I dunno who I thought would show up, but not…” he trailed off.

Natasha just smiled at him, though. “It’s a fun surprise though, right?” she teased. “What’s on your mind?”

“Er, what did Bucky already tell you?”

“Not much. That you had a bunch of sex related questions.”

Peter gaped at her amused expression. “Please tell me he didn’t word it like that.” Then, “Because that’s super inaccurate. I don’t… I know how sex works. And even if I didn’t, there wouldn’t be any reason to bother  _ you  _ about that.”

Her amusement shifted to laugher. “No, no, you’re fine. Technically he said ‘sexuality related questions’ but, you know. That was a more fun answer.”

“Don’t do that to me,” Peter complained softly, crossing his arms and hunching into a ball.

Natasha’s expression softened a little. “Sorry,” she offered. “You’re cute when you’re all riled up, though.”

Oh good, that’s what he needed. Two people who thought that. He groaned.

“Bucky asked me to talk to you because, in his words, I’m the only person he knows that actually  _ gets _ “the asexual thing”,” her use of air quotes made Peter’s mouth quirk up.

“You’re asexual?” he asked. That was ok, right? Asking that? He really didn’t want on Natasha’s bad side. But if Bucky thought talking to her would help, surely she’d be ok with a question like that. Wouldn't she?

“I’ve never really bothered with labeling it,” she told him. “But if you want a word for it, yeah, I’d say that’s pretty close.”

Something loosened in Peter’s chest. There was someone else—someone in the same room with him—that might have an idea of what he was experiencing. “Pretty close?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t done all the research like Bucky has. He’s a way bigger nerd than I am,” she grinned. “But I know you science-types like having words for things.”

He nodded. He  _ did  _ like having words for things. Labels were shortcuts in explanation. He didn’t have to explain the concept of momentum everytime it came up, because there was a word that encompassed the explanation. It was comforting.“Then… you’re not attracted to people? Uh, sexually?”

“I’m not attracted to people, period,” she corrected. “Romance, sex, none of it. Never have been, and at this point I’m confident I never will be.”

_ Huh. _ That was definitely not how he felt. But this stuff was a spectrum, right? Plus, at least one link had mentioned the word aromantic. “But you’re so—” he cut himself off, realizing that there was no polite way to finish that thought.

“Ooohh,” she sang. “I’m so what?”

_ Fuck. _ “I don’t know,” he gestured at her vaguely. “You’re always flirting with Bad Guys and stuff though.”

She snorted and it was the most startling noise she could have possibly made. “Flirting and sex are just tools in the belt,” she explained. “Just because I’m not interested in sex, doesn’t mean that others aren’t. And I can use that. In my experience, men tend to let their guard down if they think they have a chance to get me in bed.”

“Oh. Ew. Have you ever…?”

“Once or twice, when it’s come to that.”

The thought made Peter’s skin crawl. He wasn’t able to suppress the shudder that ran through him at the idea. Having sex with someone he loved was one thing. But sex with someone he didn’t care about? Or someone he hated?

“You alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just. That sounds really awful. I hate that you’ve ever had to do that.”

“I don’t want your pity,” she said firmly. “But I appreciate the thought.”

He ran a hand through his hair and debated asking his next question. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. “Did being an assassin just kind of ruin sex for you?”

“Between that and…” she hesitated for a moment. “It didn’t help anything. Obviously my associations with sex are skewed.”

Peter nodded. That was probably an understatement. “Does it ever get lonely?”

“Nope,” she was smiling again. “I’ve got Clint and Laura and the kiddos. It’s hard to feel lonely when you’re surrounded by people who love you.”

“Ok. Good.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you feeling lonely?”

He shook his head. “Not lonely, exactly. More like… frustrated, I guess.”

“Because Wade doesn’t get it?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “But also because I don’t know that I get it, either. I was reading up on asexuality stuff when you got here, and it’s like… There aren’t a lot of concrete answers out there. The closest is: asexual people don’t feel sexual attraction. And that’s it.”

“I think that’s pretty much all there is to it.”

“I guess,” he huffed. “But like… I mean, you and I are super different! Hell, researches can’t even decide on a working definition. Sometimes it’s just about sexual attraction, and sometimes it’s about whether people are actually having sex or not. And then other sources say that whether or not people choose to have sex doesn’t really matter.” He sighed. “I don’t get it. Does the fact that I like having sex mean I can’t be asexual?”

Natasha’s eyebrows raised at his impromptu rant. “Here’s the thing about identities and all that, Peter. In the end, it’s up to you.”

“Huh?”

“Putting a label on stuff doesn’t make me feel any better or worse about how I am, or how I relate to others. But it matters to you. If you’re anything like me, and don’t really “get” the whole sex thing… Then call yourself asexual if it helps you understand your own experience.”

“But what if I’m wrong?”

“So what if you’re wrong? If it’s how you feel now, then embrace what makes you feel good about it. You can change your mind later. It’s not like you’re stuck and can never learn anything new about yourself in the future.”

“Oh,” was all he could say for a long moment. She was right. That’s how  _ everything _ worked, after all. You made your best attempt at using words that made sense at the time, and if you learned more, you went back and reevaluated the terminology you were using. 

That’s all this was. Finding words to help him express what he felt to others.

To Wade.

“Thanks, Ms. Romanoff. You coming here has meant a lot to me.”

She grinned and leaned against his legs.  _ “Ms. Romanoff,” _ she echoed. “Natasha is fine,” she correctly gently. “Or Nat, if you’re feeling bold.”

Peter cleared his throat. “Thank you, Natasha.”

“Anytime. After all, it’s my job as the original spider of the team, right?”

He couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes at that. “You’re not very spider-like at all.”

“What? Sure I am.”

“Nah. No webs, no crawling on walls, no extra legs or eyes. Nothing like a spider.”

Natasha shoved at his leg. “No, I don’t have any of that, but I’m very very good at luring in men and then killing them.”

Peter straightened up and crossed his arms. “You know that’s not  _ really _ something Black Widows tend to do outside of captivity, right?”

She blinked. “What?”

“Yeah. I mean, if resources are scarce, sure. But that’s just to give her offspring a better chance at survival. So long as she’s eaten recently, the whole eating the male after sex thing is really unlikely. In fact, it’s not unheard of for a male to cohabitate in the female’s web sometimes.”

He paused when he heard someone else enter the room. He didn’t have to turn and look.  _ Wade. _ “Hi, Babe,” he chirped.

“Damn it,” Wade huffed.

Had Wade been trying to sneak up on him? What was  _ with  _ people trying that lately. It was rude was what it was.

“ _ And,” _ he continued, “Black Widows spiders almost never kill humans. Most of the time their bites don’t even need medical attention. Like, it hurts, but it’s not particularly dangerous unless your immune system is already shot or something. They’re not even aggressive. They’ll bite a human if they’re scared or in danger, but that’s about it.”

Natasha’s stunned expression broke once more into laughter and she grinned at Wade. “Is he always like this?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Wade was fixing him with an exceptionally fond expression. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard the Black Widow stuff before, but Pete gets  _ super _ into just about everything that interests him.”

Peter scoffed and swung his legs off of the couch. “I’m sorry for having interests.”

“Don’t be. It’s awesome,” Natasha assured him. “And I just learned a lot.” She gave him a thoughtful look. “Maybe I’ll have to look into rebranding myself. Any suggestions?”

“Go with the Orb-Weaver spider next time. They eat the males who try to mate with them if they’re too weak.”

 

* * *

 

Wade kept their conversation conspicuously light as they walked back to their apartment. They talked about the weather—it was still cold—and did the traffic around NYC seem to be getting worse?—no, not really.

It was only when they were back in their apartment that Peter turned and gave Wade a questioning look. “What’s up with you, dude?”

“Nothing!” Wade replied too quickly.

“Which is why we just spent 10 minutes making small talk like people who barely know each other but were stuck in an elevator that had broken down?”

“Weird example,” Wade deflected.

“Wade.”

“Pete.”

Peter crossed his arms, waiting.

“What were you and Natasha talking about?” Wade finally asked.

“What?”

“I felt like I walked in on something really important, and I assume it wasn’t just about spider behavior, but I can’t think of what else you’d be talking to Natasha about so seriously except assassin-y stuff and—”

“Babe, no,” Peter grabbed Wade’s hands and pulled him further into the room, towards the couch. He couldn’t figure out why Peter and Natasha talking about assassin stuff would bother Wade so much, and he was torn between his desire to comfort his boyfriend, and his urge to find out.

He tried to find a compromise and pulled Wade down onto the couch with him, maneuvering them until Wade’s head was pillowed against his chest. “We weren’t talking about unaliving stuff,” he clarified again. “But why would it be so bad if we were?”

Wade shrugged awkwardly from his position. Peter had to resist rolling his eyes. “How am I supposed to help you feel better if I don’t know why it bothers you?”

“I’m not sure why it bothers me,” Wade admitted. “Except… I just don’t like having  _ you  _ and  _ killing _ mixing up in my mind.”

“Oh,” Peter ran his fingers along Wade’s neck. “Well, like I said, we weren’t talking about assassin stuff, or unaliving, or anything like that. Well, except in regards to spiders, I guess, but that’s different.”

His boyfriend nodded against his chest. “So… what were you two talking about so seriously? Besides spiders.”

“Oh. Um, sex, actually.”

Wade bolted up into something of a sitting position. But really it was more like he was half looming over Peter. “You were talking to Natasha about sex?”

He watched Wade’s face go on an impressive emotional journey. Confusion, what might have been hurt, something that Peter was pretty sure was at least tangential to lust, before finally settling on a sort of a disbelieving curiosity. 

“Er, yeah. Well, me and sex and stuff, specifically.”

Wade blinked. “What sort of sex-y questions did you have that you didn’t want to come to me with?”

Peter huffed. “I’m allowed to talk to other people about shit, Wade.”

“No, no, no, that’s not what I meant,” Wade gentled. “You should definitely talk to whoever you want to about whatever you want to, Sweetheart. I just meant… Did I fuck up so badly that you don’t feel comfortable talking to me?”

“What?” Peter all but squeaked, shifting so that he could sit up properly. “No. Well, not exactly.”

“Not exactly?” Wade echoed dimly.

“I mean. The other day did kind of start a chain reaction that lead to the conversation,” he started.

Then he launched into what had transpired. How after he’d stormed out after their not-fight (that probably  _ was  _ a fight, even if he and Wade weren’t calling it that), he’d talked with Bucky. How  _ angry _ he’d been. Not at Wade, he was quick to assure him, but at the situation. At the world, and at how sex apparently didn’t click for him in the same way it clicked for everyone else. 

How he’d wondered if the spider had  _ really _ fucked him up, in addition to all of the cool powers. Or maybe the spider had nothing to do with it and  _ he _ was just the one that was fucked up, right from the start.

And Bucky had told him to go talk to Bruce, who had been a surprising source of information and knowledge. That while  _ maybe _ the spider had done something, what Peter was feeling could also be explained as something else.

“What was the something else?” was the first thing that Wade had asked. He’d let Peter talk and talk until he finally paused to really breathe and reorder his thoughts.

Peter could feel how flushed he was with pure excitement and joy. He had a  _ word! _

“Asexuality,” he said, liking the feeling of it in his mouth. Of how it felt to have a word to explain his experiences. “And this morning when I was waiting for Natasha, although I didn’t know it was Natasha that was gonna be there, just that it was one of Bucky’s friends… Or at least someone he knew. Anyway, I was looking over some of the resources that Bruce e-mailed me, and like, not  _ all _ of it fit, but a lot of it did, and Wade. There are others. Other people like me. People like—” he froze before accidently outing Natasha. He didn’t know how she’d feel about other people knowing, and it sure as hell wasn’t his place to just guess. “There are people who experience sexual stuff like I do.”

Usually when Peter got going on an excited tangent, Wade would light up with him, happy to share in whatever Peter was gushing about. But right then, he just looked confused and... lost?

“Are… are you ok?” He asked, brow furrowing in concern at Wade’s uncharacteristic quiet.

“So… Asexuality is… what, exactly? Not wanting to have sex?”

“No, not exactly. I mean, for some people, yeah, I guess so. But it’s more like… just not being sexually attracted to people?”

“Oh,” Wade said quietly, and shuffled back across the couch until they weren’t touching anymore. “Right, yeah, that makes sense. Not sure why I thought anything  _ would _ be attracted to me.”

All of Peter’s excitement left him in a rush. It felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “Wade, that’s not what I said at all.”

“You just said you don’t feel attraction to people,” Wade countered, but there was no fight in him.

“Sexual attraction,” Peter corrected. “There’s more than one kind of attraction!”

“Like what?”

“Like romantic attraction! Which I do feel! Towards you! A lot!”

“What’s the difference?” Wade asked quietly, staring down at his hands.

“I… I don’t know how to answer that,” Peter admitted. “I don’t know what sexual attraction feels like, so I don’t know how to compare the two. But I know I’m attracted to you. I love you, Wade.”

Despite his desperate assurances, Wade just looked completely heartbroken. He didn’t reply as he stood up.

Peter’s heart clenched. “Wade?”

“I… I need to think, Peter.”

He choked back the tears that threatened to burn through him. “Please, no.” Wade almost never called him Peter. Pete, Petey, Petey-pie, sure. But “Peter” was reserved for important serious conversations.

“I’ll… I’ll come back,” Wade promised him, still not looking at him. He didn’t look back as he walked back around the couch. Or when he crossed the room to the elevator. Or even when he got on the elevator. He just stared at the back wall as though even  _ looking _ at Peter would be too much.

As soon as he was alone, Peter gave in and let himself break down. He’d been so fucking excited to share this with Wade.

How could it have gone so  _ wrong? _


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the downside of having so much written out was that I didn't realize just how much of a downer ending chapter 3 had. I'm sorry. >o<
> 
> (and now chapter 5 might become 2 chapters. Someone stop me... [But at least the happy ending will be in 5, I mean, I'm not that awful!])

_And I swear that I don't have a gun_  
_No I don't have a gun_  
 _No I don't have a gun  
_ —Come as You Are, _Nirvana_

 

Wade had left the apartment with the intention of just wandering the streets aimlessly to clear his head until he could try to think. Except that trying to clear his head gave White and Yellow a chance to perk up and lambast him mercilessly.

So instead he found himself wandering towards the ever familiar doors of Sister Margaret’s. Maybe if he drank enough quickly enough, he could get drunk. At least for a little bit. Or at least get enough of a buzz going to quiet the voices that bounced around his skull like a pinball game.

Maybe, if he was _really_ lucky (ha!) then he might even forget the fucking angelic excitement on Peter’s face when he’d explained that he wasn’t attracted to him.

_Well, of course he wasn’t,_ Yellow scoffed. _Like anything as good as that was going to last. Ha, you thought…_

“Oh, fuck off,” he growled ineffectually.

He pulled his hood further down his face, wishing that _anything_ he did would help block them out.

Wade tried again to focus his thoughts and ignore their taunting. Peter loved him. He was certain about that. Mostly certain. No. Definitely certain. Peter loved him in whatever way he could manage.

But what was that?

Because love and sex just… went together, right? Sure, you didn't have to love someone to fuck them, but if you _did_ love someone, you _also wanted to fuck them._

And Peter… Peter enjoyed it when they had sex, right? He always acted like it, at least. But if he wasn’t attracted to Wade, then why…?

He blinked when he realized his feet had finished bringing him to his destination. The smell of booze, puke, and gunmetal didn’t feel like home, exactly. Not in the way that his and Peter’s apartment and the constantly shifting scents of foods and questionable chemistry experiments (that probably shouldn’t be done on a wooden table), and fucking sunshine felt like home now. He hadn’t even realized that sunshine had a smell.

Peter had snorted when he’d said that and tried to explain what the smell actually was, but Wade had dismissed it. The apartment smelled like sunshine and happiness. And sometimes sex. And less often, blood.

The point was that it smelled like everything _good_ in his life.

And the bar smelled like the promise of money and violence and… also a lot of good things in his life, he supposed. But not Peter-things.

Wade dropped onto a bar stool and stared up at the so-called Dead Pool. That his name was still up on, for some reason. He had to give Weasel credit for sticking to his guns on that. Wilson, W. Age: 28. He snorted. Weasel had even _updated_ the damn thing. On the other hand, the pot for his death was into 5 digits now. He wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or offended. It didn’t matter, that pot was never going to pay out.

“Well, you look like fucking shit,” Weasel greeted.

Wade only grunted in reply.

“I mean, more than usual. Which, honestly, pretty impressive.” When Wade didn’t reply, Weasel narrowed his eyes at him. “Jesus, are you just here to mope again?”

“Maybe.”

“Ugh. You know how I never mope and shit around you?”

He knew it was a rhetorical question, and answered it anyway. “Yeah. You could, though.”

“No, I couldn’t,” Weasel shook his head. “Because I’m not a whiny little bitch like you.”

Wade was certain he was imagining the barely there hint of affection buried deep in Weasel’s tone.

“What’s wrong Mr. Pool?” Dopinder not-so-subtly shifted his mopping pattern until he could come and stand next to Wade.

Under the unabashed concern of Dopinder’s expression, something in Wade cracked. “Everything. Nothing? I don’t fucking know anymore,” he groaned. His eyes drifted back to Weasel. He wasn’t going to deal with this without at least trying to beat his sobriety into submission. “You got anything to drink that I might actually feel?”

Weasel sighed and ducked down below the bar. When he resurfaced it was with a fucking liter of Everclear. 190 U.S. Proof. “Oh my god, it’s beautiful,” he pulled the bottle towards himself. He looked back up. “Did you stock this for me?”

“No, numbnuts. Believe it or not, I do actually cater to people besides you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wade took a swig. It wasn’t unlike drinking gasoline. Wow, that might actually get him buzzed for a minute or two. “You’re a good friend.”

“You shut your whore mouth. I won’t tolerate this slander in my own bar.”

When Wade threw his head back and chugged a quarter of the bottle, he heard but didn’t react to Dopinder’s distressed squawk.

“Ok,” he set the bottle down and took inventory. Aside from maybe being hyper aware of his own blinking, he didn’t really feel anything from the booze. Fuck. “Hey, Weas. Have you ever—” He huffed out a breath and cut himself off. “Nevermind, I already know the answer.”

He purposefully turned his body to the side so that he could look Dopinder up and down. “Dopinder, have you ever been in love?”

Weasel’s muttered, “Jesus Christ,” went ignored.

“Yes!” Dopinder brightened for a moment, before he deflated sadly. “Once. But sadly, she did not return my affections.”

“Yeah, because you killed her fiance, dude,” Weasel pointed out.

Wade waved Weasel off. “Ok, but, Gita, right?”

Dopinder brightened again. It was like having a light switch attached to his emotions. “You remembered!”

“Of course I remembered, Honey Bear!” He watched Dopinder’s smile warm at the pet name. It was cute, Wade decided. Cute in the way that made him want to choke something until it stopped moving.

Best to ignore that impulse for the moment.

“Focus,” he wasn’t sure if he was saying it more to himself, or to his friend. “You loved Gita?”

“Very much so.”

“Right. Would you say that you were sexually attracted to her?”

Dopinder’s eyes widened comically, and he stuttered over his reply for a moment. Wade took another drink and waited for Dopinder to collect his thoughts.

“Um… yes? I do—did—often fantasize about—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Weasel interjected, waving his arm between the two of them. “Wade, what the actual fuck?”

“But that’s how it works, right? If you love someone, you want to fuck them?”

Weasel groaned and took off his glasses to rub at his eyes. “Did you finally realize you were being a creepy pedophile and that you _don’t_ want to fuck Peter?”

“No, I—Oh, suck my dick, Jack.” Weasel’s eyes narrowed at the use of his name, but he knew better than to bring attention to it.

“Wait!” Dopinder interjected. “Then, does Peter not find you attractive?”

“Why are you saying that like it’s shocking? Look at the guy. Would _you_ want to fuck him?”

Dopinder looked like he was actually trying to seriously consider Weasel’s question.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Wade said quickly, wishing even more that he’d taken the time to grab at least his gloves on his way out. Or a scarf. Or his mask. Or maybe his whole fucking suit.

He downed the rest of the bottle. Finally, _finally,_ there was a sensation of warmth that settled low in his stomach after burning its way down his throat.

“But yeah, that’s basically what he said. He loves me, but—”

Dopinder winced, and even Weasel maybe looked a tiny bit sympathetic. “So he dumped you?”

“No? Or… I don’t think so?”

Weasel put his glasses back on and and leaned against the bar, looking Wade full in the face. “I think he did, dude. “I love you, but” is a classic dumping line.”

“I’m so sorry Mr. Pool. I know how much you care about him.” Dopinder entirely dropped his mopping pretense and let it drop to the floor so that he could give Wade a tight hug.

Wade grumbled and gently extracted himself from Dopinder’s arms, getting up from the stool. “He didn’t fucking dump me, assholes.” Despite all of his hurt and confusion, Wade felt weirdly certain about that point. Peter wasn’t cruel. If he’d been breaking up with Wade, he’d have spelled it out, and not left anything open to misinterpretation.

“Well. Then you should probably dump him.”

He grabbed the Everclear bottle and hurtled it just to the left of Weasel’s face. He didn’t _miss._ And Weasel knew it. A hush fell over the room at the sound of bottles shattering. And for just a second, with all eyes on them, Weasel’s carefully crafted veneer of devil-may-care attitude faltered, and there was _fear_ in his eyes.

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ try to make Dopinder clean that shit up,” he growled, stalking out of the bar.

He stared up at the sky once he was back outside. Fuck, it had gotten _dark._ Well, as dark as NYC ever got. He missed the stars. Had he grown up somewhere where he could see the stars? Really see them? Or was that a weird manufactured nostalgia from a life he’d never lived?

Wade waited for Yellow or White to let him know. Or just mock him. Whichever. But they were quiet, barely buzzing in the background of his mind. Maybe his outburst had been enough to quiet them down.

What should he do from here?

Go back to Peter, probably.

But the thought of seeing Peter right then still _hurt_ like someone digging a knife into his sternum.

And he still didn’t understand.

Who would have answers?

Natasha? Was she even still at The Tower? Would she be willing to talk to him? They’d gotten along well enough the few times they’d been in the same vicinity but…

What about Bruce? He dismissed that out of hand. He didn’t know Bruce. He seemed like a nice guy and all, but he’d also done some weird genetic experiment shit, hadn’t he? Like, it was on himself, but still.

That left Bucky, the first person Peter had talked to. He and Bucky got along. He might even go so far as to call themselves properly friendly with each other. Not _friends_ exactly. Not with how Rogers liked to treat Wade. And surely Captain Fuckin’ America wouldn’t treat his boyfriend’s friends like crap, right?

Or maybe O' Captain My Captain just tended to treat most everyone like crap. Who knew?

It probably wasn’t that. Peter had never said a bad word about the guy. And with one giant Wade-sized exception, Peter was an excellent judge of character.

So, he made his decision. He’d go talk to Bucky! Geriatrics were usually up by 3am anyway, right?

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until he got to The Tower that he realized that he didn’t actually have Bucky’s phone number. Shit. Thankfully the building came equipped with a giant and not at all creepy Nanny Cam. (He had grudgingly accepted Karen. She seemed nice. So did JARVIS, but, well, JARVIS reported to Stark. Karen seemed to only willingly report to Peter. It was _different.)_

“JARVIS!” He stood at the main doorway and yelled. Did JARVIS have microphones out here? If he yelled loud enough would the AI hear him from inside the building? “JARVIS, LET ME IN!”

If JARVIS could hear him, it wasn’t responding. Maybe it couldn’t, though? During the day getting into the building only required very minimal subterfuge. Because the first 30 fuckin’ floors were office spaces. So getting in the front door was easy. But it would make sense for the building to be more heavily locked down at 3am.

Hmm.

“JARVIS, if you can hear me, tell Bucky to come to me! I need to talk to him! It’s important!”

He waited for a minute before yelling again. There weren’t too many people out, but they had definitely taken notice of the guy standing there, yelling at the glass doors of one of NYC’s most well known buildings. Fuck ‘em all.

“JARV—”

“Jesus fucking Christ, I’m here!” He’d been so wrapped up in his yelling that he hadn’t actually noticed Bucky appearing behind the glass doors. Huh. Hey! Maybe the Everclear _had_ done something?

Not a good something, though, if he’d miss something _that_ obvious.

“What could you possibly want at 3 in the morning, Wade?”

“Did JARVIS not pass on the message that this is important?” Wade asked.

Bucky narrowed his eyes and looked him up and down. “Fine,” he bit out. “You wake me up, you get to do my morning routine with me.”

He opened his mouth to reply with a quip, only to realize that the idea just… didn’t feel _fun_ right then. He closed his mouth again, feeling disoriented. Since when was bantering _not fun?_

“What does that mean?” he asked instead.

“It means we’re going for a run. Keep up.”

Wade made it a point to groan audibly and obnoxiously, but he still took off after Bucky. He hadn’t really run just for the sake of running in a while—he ran plenty, chasing down Bad Guys and on jobs, thank you very much—so it took a few minutes before he was able to find a good pace. But once he did, muscle memory pushed him onwards, and he found himself keeping up with Bucky better than he’d have expected.

Right, they’d both been in the army, hadn’t they? He guessed they still taught people to run in the same basic way as they had back in Ye Olden Days. It wasn’t like _running_ was something that was likely to change, after all.

He did his best to track how far they’d gone. Two miles? Ten? They’d left the easily measured grid of streets and followed a walking trail that he was pretty sure wasn’t intended for the kind of running they were doing.

But they weren’t typical people, either.

Still, it was with no small amount of frustration that he had to stop well before Bucky had even started to look the least bit winded. He collapsed on the scratchy dead grass and panted. What good was his stupid healing factor if he couldn’t out-stamina a 100-something-year-old man?

“Not half bad!” Bucky said cheerfully from where he stood over Wade’s panting form.

Wade gave him a weak thumbs up.

“But we still have to run back.”

He huffed and turned his hand, shifting until he was flipping Bucky off instead.

Bucky rolled his eyes, but don’t think that Wade didn’t catch the twitch of amusement that flickered across his features first.

“Get up, Wilson, don’t make me pull rank.”

Wade snorted at that. “You can’t pull rank on me. You were a Sergeant, right?”

_“Am_ a Sergeant,” Bucky corrected.

He closed his eyes and darted around in his mind for scraps of relevant memories. “That’s, what… E-4?”

“E-5.”

“Right, my mistake. _Before_ getting discharged, I was a Master Sergeant. That’s an E-8 for those of you following along at home.”

“Bullshit.”

“Special Forces doesn’t let just anyone in, peon,” he grinned and dragged himself to his feet. “But it doesn’t matter. Even if I didn’t outrank you, I’m a civilian now. You can’t pull rank on civilians.”

“Like hell you’re a civilian,” Bucky started to argue.

“Dishonorable discharge. I’m a civilian.”

Bucky’s argument fell from his face and was quickly replaced with confusion. “Dishonorable… The hell did you do?”

Wade shrugged. “The right thing.”

His brief rest had been enough. That and the prickles of adrenaline that urged him forward as he wondered if his admission might have been poorly timed. Or the unintentional trust poorly placed.

Of course Bucky didn’t have any sort of trouble catching back up, and then slowing his pace to match Wade’s. “I’m serious asshole, that’s a big deal. What did you do?”

Desperate to defuse the argument before it could become a fight—Peter would definitely never forgive Wade for killing Bucky. Even in self-defense. Also, he realised, he didn’t want to have to kill Bucky either. He liked the guy—he thought back to what had happened. He was met with nothing but static and snide whispers.

“Probably shot my CO or something,” he offered. “Or I refused to shoot someone. I don’t remember.”

Bucky made a face that Wade struggled to identify, and remained silent the entire way back to The Tower. Before they stepped inside the door his metal hand closed around Wade’s wrist.

Ah hell.

“You don’t remember,” Bucky said slowly. His tone was calming, but even. Serious. As though Wade was a wild animal that might get spooked. Which was probably a fair assumption to make. “But you’re sure you did the right thing?”

Wade nodded. Then shrugged. “I might have done the wrong thing, but for the right reasons,” he corrected.

Bucky let out a breath and released his wrist. “Ok,” was all he said.

Wade followed dutifully as Bucky gestured for him to follow to the elevators. “So, what was so important?”

“Seriously?” Wade huffed. “What if it had been an emergency?”

“Then you wouldn’t have stood outside yelling at JARVIS for 10 minutes waiting for me to _maybe_ find out about it and come down. You’d have tried to break down the fucking door.”

“True,” Wade nodded. “I was hoping we could talk about Pete?”

“I’m not a relationship counselor,” Bucky grumbled. “But fine. Maybe. Go shower first.”

Wade balked and shook his head. But Bucky was speaking before he even had a chance to try to get out of it. “No, you want to talk, go shower first. You smell like death and gasoline.” He was none to gently shoved into what seemed to be a largely unused bathroom.

He wondered how upset they’d be if he broke the mirror while he was trapped in there.

“Shower,” Bucky ordered again, shutting the door.

Wade dug his fingers into his hoodie, grabbing at his chest. He was _not_ going to panic here. He was _not,_ damn it. He swallowed and focused on his breathing and looked around the shower. Noted the knobs and how they worked. Where the soap was located. Then he looked for the light switch and what kind of fucking room didn’t have a light switch?

“JARVIS?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, Mr. Wilson? Do you need assistance?”

“Yeah, um. Could you like… turn the lights off?”

There was a pause before JARVIS spoke again. “I’m afraid that has been built into my code as a safety hazard and—”

“Please?” he asked again. Why did the rejection of his request hurt so badly.

JARVIS was quiet again, and Wade closed his eyes tightly. That wasn’t good enough. He knew that if he opened them, he’d see the room. And without his clothes, he’d see himself. In a strange room with a large mirror. An unfamiliar room. An unfamiliar building.

But if he didn’t figure something out, Bucky wouldn’t talk to him, either. And he’d have gone on that fucking run and bothered him for nothing.

He’d have failed his mission.

Despite his best efforts, his breath was coming in painfully uneven. _Fuck._ And where had JARVIS gone?

“Wade.”

Huh? Oh. Bucky was in front of him. When’d that happen?

“Wade, look at me, can you do that?”

He was pretty sure his head tilted up, but everything was a blur of color and he couldn’t focus. Since when was Bucky so much taller than him? Wait, no. On the floor. He was on the floor?

“Shit. How many fingers am I holding up, kid?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Ok. That’s ok,” Bucky assured him.

Wade was very certain that not being able to comprehend things he was seeing was definitely not ok. He heard a whimper, and it must have come from him. Somehow.

“But you can hear me just fine, right?”

“I think so?”

“Good. Close your eyes. Yeah, there you go. Keep ‘em closed for a minute. I want you to count up to ten, and then back down.”

Bucky was quiet as Wade followed the instructions. Focusing on counting shouldn’t be this hard. Breathing shouldn’t be this hard. He should be fine, damn it.

“Great job, Wade. Now. Open your eyes again, ok?”

He didn’t want to open his eyes. But after a moment, he did so anyway. Oh, and he could see Bucky this time. More or less. Still kind of blurred at the edges, but his vision wasn’t just a mess of splattered colors and shapes.

“Two fingers,” he answered, before Bucky could prompt him.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Uh,” he blinked. “Avengers Tower. Your bathroom?”

“What year is it?”

“2019—No, wait, it’s 2020 now, right?”

“Yes. You got it. You wanna get out of here?”

Wade nodded and let Bucky help him up. He very carefully avoided looking at himself in the mirror as he was lead back out of the room.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Bucky’s voice was low and calming as he spoke once Wade was settled on the couch.

He shook his head. He could, technically. In that he was probably physically capable. But… Hell, he barely talked about this shit with Peter. Much less…

“That’s ok, you don’t have to tell me anything,” Bucky assured him. “You gonna be ok while I go grab some water?”

Wade nodded. He finally noticed that Bucky had changed clothes, and that his hair was damp. How much time had passed? Had he showered, or only started to? Had JARVIS let him know something was wrong?

“Hey Bucky?” He ventured when the other man returned. “What time is it?”

He watched Bucky pull out his phone to check. “3:39.”

“Oh.” He’d left Peter _hours_ ago, he realized. Wow. Great job, Wilson. He dug his own phone out of his hoodie pocket. He needed to say _something_ to Peter, didn’t he?

💀💩 _L [03:40]: I love you._

There. That was the most important part. Of everything. Peter loved him, and he loved Peter. Everything else was… Well, he didn’t know yet.

He hadn’t expected any sort of reply for another few hours at least. And he figured he’d be home by then. But instead,

💞 _Petey_ 💞 _[03:40]: I love you, too._

Had he woken Peter up with his message? Or had Peter just never actually gone to sleep? Both seemed possible, really.

He stared at the message and swallowed, his emotions still bubbling and threatening to break free.

“What’s asexuality?” he asked quietly.

“What?” Bucky sat down next to him.

“Over the last few days, Peter talked to you, and Bruce, and Natasha and came away with…”

_Not attracted to you,_ Yellow jeered.

“He called it asexuality.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “Yeah. I mean, I didn’t call it that, but it makes sense that Bruce would, at least.” Metal fingers tapped against Bucky’s pants. “Shouldn’t you be talking to him about this?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. But… It’s kind of hard to be in the same room with your boyfriend who just said they weren’t attracted to you.” Fuck, admitting that twice in one night _hurt._

“That’s what he said?” Bucky’s eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“I mean, basically! Well, that he’s not attracted to anyone, but I’m an “anyone” so that means me, too!”

Bucky just blinked and sighed at him. “Wade, I’m pretty sure you misunderstood what he actually said. Because Peter could not be any more obvious in his attraction to you. Plus, he and I literally talked about it a few nights ago. So, try again.”

Wade frowned but tried to do as Bucky asked. He thought back over Peter’s explanation as well as he could. “Ok, yeah, I guess he said ‘sexually attracted’ but, I mean… same thing, right?”

Bucky shrugged. “Eh? For a lot of people. Maybe even most people. But not everyone.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. There’s this whole thing called the Split-Attraction Model,” Bucky opened an internet browser on his phone and pulled up a page about the Split-Attraction Model. “For some people, especially people who identify with the asexual and aromantic spectrums, it’s a model to explain that their romantic and sexual attractions might not be one in the same. Like having romantic attraction to men and women, even without the sexual attraction part. Or vice versa. And it’s not just for asexual and aromantic people. It’s not unheard of for, say… Someone to be sexually attracted to both men and women, but only romantically attracted to one or the other.”

Wade blinked and tried to mull that over. Hadn't Peter mentioned something along those lines, too?

“You sound like you’re just reading off a pamphlet.”

Bucky gestured at the screen that he had literally been reading from. “Yeah, imagine that,” he said dryly. “That’s why I told you to talk to Peter about this. I’m not asexual, so I can really only talk about this shit based on what I’ve read from other people.”

Wade sighed and crossed his arms over himself. “Why _do_ you know so much about this stuff?”

“Ah. Well. As I’m sure you noticed, things are really different now than it was in the 40s.”

“No shit.”

“Right. And when I came back—after Stevie brought me back—I wound up doing a lot of reading. About all kinds of shit, but you have no idea… When I was growing up, you were either normal, or you were a queer. And nothin’ good came from people finding out you were queer.”

Wade snorted. “That’s true now too,” he pointed out. “Even around here, if the wrong people find out—”

“Sure, sure,” Bucky waved him off. “But back then, _everyone_ was the wrong person. The first time I saw Pride I was fuckin’ floored. The idea that people could be “out”, much less “proud”? I swear I was just waiting for a firing squad.”

He nodded slowly. He’d seen plenty of the sort of things Bucky was talking about. All over the fuckin’ world. But the image of a firing squad at Pride was no less difficult to stomach. It made something feral snarl in his chest. He almost wanted to see someone _try_ something that year.

No, Bad Wade. He needed to ignore that impulse, too. At least for the moment.

“Anyway,” Bucky continued, pulling him out of his thoughts. “So much was different. Information was out there. So I just… read up on everything I could find.”

“Oh. You’re a nerd, too,” Wade muttered.

Bucky gave him an amused look.

“I meant that in the best possible way,” he continued. “Petey’s a giant nerd.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“I uh. I should have been talking to him about this.”

“Yeah, man, you should have.”

“Fucking Hell. He bared his fucking soul to me about this and I just… walked out.”

“You fucking _what?”_

“I know! I also hate what I did!” He stood up quickly, ignoring the way his vision narrowed.

“Hey, woah!” Bucky stood up too and helped steady him.

“I’m good, I’m good,” Wade shrugged him off. “I’m gonna go home. And apologize. There might be groveling.”

Bucky snorted. “Yeah. You should definitely grovel a bit.”

“Hey, Buck. You’re uh… Thanks for everything.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, no problem.”

“Could you… Not tell anyone what happened a bit ago? About me…”

“Yeah. I’ll keep it secret. Keep it safe.”

Wade paused at the door. “Did… Did you just quote Gandalf at me?”

Bucky was grinning. “Go home, Wade.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something like fuckin' 11k of fic here for all you fine boys, gals, and non-binary pals~
> 
> I had to play w/ HTML a fair bit, hopefully I didn't bork anything too badly. x.x; (if I did, let me know so I can go fix it!)
> 
> This chapter is both way longer and also very different than I'd originally planned. But don't worry, those original plans aren't going anywhere. They're sitting in a lovely document waiting to be used later. :P
> 
> It's_a_surprise_tool_that_will_help_us_later.gif

_Memoria, memoria_  
_Memoria, memoria_ _  
_ (No I don't have a gun)

—Come as You Are, _Nirvana_

 

Peter had paced the apartment listlessly after Wade left. He tried to sit down and read, or play a game, or watch tv, and eventually he even tried to get some sleep. But nothing worked. His mind wouldn't let him rest.

So when Wade’s text came up on his phone, he replied instantly.

Wade loved him.

So why had he left like that?

Peter blinked, refusing to cry for a third time that night.

He wasn’t being fair and he knew it. But Wade leaving like that hurt. Hurt worse than he could have ever expected it to. But now, hours later, Wade's reaction also made a little bit of sense. It wasn’t like Wade had the best self-esteem to start with. And Wade probably struggled to understand what asexuality was like as much as Peter struggled to understand what sexual attraction felt like.

When he heard the elevator start to move, he perked up, turning so that he was facing over the back of the couch. Wade was back. He’d come back. Like he’d promised.

“Welcome home,” he managed, making himself watch his boyfriend walk slowly into the room, rather than vault the couch like he wanted.

He blinked. Wade didn’t look great. His eyes were red-rimmed and he looked like he’d been through some form of hell or another over the night.

“Petey, I’m so sorry,” Wade pulled Peter into a hug over the back of the couch, lifting him so that he had to balance on his knees. He also smelled like he’d been through some form of hell. But Peter just wrapped his arms around him in return and refused to let go for several long moments. “Leaving was super shitty of me,” Wade said into his hair.

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. “It was.”

“Can we talk?”

“I dunno,” Peter bit out, unwilling to try to mask his emotions. “Are you actually going to listen to me this time?”

“Yes. I will. I, uh, also talked to Bucky a little bit,” Wade told him.

Peter let Wade go and sank down on the couch cushion. “Yeah?”

Wade nodded. “Can I sit?”

“Please.”

After Wade sank down on the cushion next to him, they were both quiet. Peter waited for Wade to decide what he wanted to say. Or ask. “I don’t know that I really get it, but I’m trying, ok?”

That wasn’t really what Peter had hoped to hear. He tried to keep the pout off his face, but doubted he was managing it. “What’s there to get?”

"The whole…" Wade gestured vaguely. "The idea of not being sexually attracted to people? Or, I guess… that sexual and other kinds of attraction… that there's a difference?"

Peter huffed and wrapped his arms across himself.

"But!" Wade said quickly at his change in position. "But, I'm listening. To you. And I'll try to quit just… assuming the worst." Wade dropped his hands into his lap and stared down at them. "I realized really quickly that even though I didn't understand what you were trying to say, I knew you weren't like… leaving me. Or wanting me to leave."

"Good," Peter let his arms relax a bit. "Then we can start there. But you should have listened to me from the start," he pointed out.

Wade nodded. "I know."

"It would have saved us both a lot of grief."

He nodded again.

"But you did give me time to think." Wade's eyes widened at his comment. "Relax, not that kind of thinking. I mean… Unless _you_ don't think you can be happy like this, then—"

"No! I am. I so, _so,_ am, Petey. I love you and… I want to figure this out."

"Ok," Peter smiled, his chest finally relaxing. "Let me try explaining it differently," he offered. "You haven't been interested in dating everyone you've fucked, right?"

Wade cleared his throat and his hands twitched. "Er, no. Def-definitely not. But that's…"

"It's not the same, I know. I'm just trying to explain that romantic and sexual attraction aren't necessarily the same thing."

"I… Hmm," Wade hummed as he mulled over Peter's words. "There's something else I don't understand." His eyes darted up to meet Peter's. "And it's kind of a bigger thing."

"Then ask."

"If you're not sexually attracted to me—or to anyone—why do you keep having sex with me?"

Peter blinked. "What?"

"You always said you aren't just doing it to make me happy, but—"

"Because I enjoy it. It's fun. It feels good. And it's like…" he let his head tilt back, trying to gather the words he wanted to use. "Because it's like… special and shit."

Wade snorted. "Special and shit?"

"Shut up, I don't know how to explain it. I mean, we could decide to just never have sex again and that would be fine with me, too."

He could see how very hard Wade was trying to keep a neutral face about that declaration.

"But, I _don't_ want that. I have sex with you because I _want_ to have sex with you. And I want to keep doing that."

Wade smiled a little. "I'll be honest, I don't know that I'm ever going to _really_ understand what it feels like. But I can trust that you know that you want."

"So long as Yellow and White stay quiet, you mean?"

"Yeah, them shutting the fuck up helps a lot."

Peter smiled back and shifted closer so that he could lean against Wade's side. "Where'd you go today?"

"Uh. Wandered around for a while. Went to visit Weasel and Dopinder. Who were exactly zero help, by the way."

"Even Dopinder?"

"Well. He tried to make me feel better. But they were so fucking certain that you'd dumped me, or that I should dump you, and that just pissed me the fuck off."

He _knew_ that tone of voice. "You didn't hurt anyone, did you?"

Wade dropped his arm over Peter's shoulders. "I'm happy to say that no one got hurt because of me. Er, not directly. With any luck Weasel cut himself cleaning up glass."

"What? What did you do?"

"I threw a bottle next to his face."

"Wade!"

"Next to his face!" Wade emphasized. "I didn't hit him! Just scared him a little. And probably fucked up his street cred a little."

Peter frowned. "You should apologize."

"Fuck that. You know that son of a bitch stands to make over 10 grand if I ever stay dead?"

"What? How?"

"Oh. Ok, so, this is actually super morbid, and you probably won't approve."

That was a comforting start. "Noted. Go on."

"Sister Margaret's has this thing called the Dead Pool—yes, that's where the name came from—where we place money on the odds of someone dying."

"Oh my God."

"Anyway my name has been up there since before I got all fucked up—"

"Your _friends_ were betting that you'd _die?"_

"Yeah? I mean, Weas is up there too, but there's only like $200 on him biting it."

Peter just stared at him for a moment. "What the fuck? Is this the kind of thing guys do for fun?"

"I mean… Yeah. The odds of someone _not_ coming back from a job—well, it varies. But in general, it's a dangerous lifestyle. We have to find a way to laugh at it somehow." Wade broke into a grin at Peter's distressed noise. "See, I told you you wouldn't approve."

He was right, Peter didn't love the idea. Morbid felt like an understatement. Sociopathic might be closer.

"So, after assaulting Weasel, what happened?"

"I told you I just scared him. But then I left and was all: fuck, now what? And then I remembered that you'd talked to Bucky so I figured it couldn't hurt to go talk to him myself."

"Did that help?"

"Kind of? He made me run with him first. Then I had a panic attack—"

"What? Are you ok?"

"—Yeah, I'm ok now, and then we talked and I realized he was a giant nerd, and you're a giant nerd, so it made sense that you'd be all hyper and excited when telling me the asexuality stuff."

"Thanks."

"I love that you're a giant nerd, Petey-pie," Wade assured him. "But also you actually feel this stuff, so talking to you was gonna be way more useful than just listening to Bucky read stuff off to me."

"He's good at explaining stuff, though."

Wade shrugged, "I like how you explain stuff better."

"I think you just like hearing me talk."

"Maybe both." Wade leaned over and kissed his temple.

"You sure you're ok? After the panic attack and… everything?"

"Sure. I'm super resilient!"

"Babe." Peter said softly, placing his hand along the side of Wade's face. "It's ok to be not ok."

Wade's smile faded and he pressed his face against Peter's hand. "I'm mostly ok again," he corrected.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

He shrugged. "I was ok and then I wasn't? I mean… after wandering around the city and then hanging out in a bar then running who the fuck knows how far, I kind of needed a shower. But like… I… Showering in strange places is… hard. For me."

Peter nodded.

"And I was planning to just ignore the mirror. Or break it, maybe. But after scouting out where stuff was located I asked JARVIS to turn off the lights and apparently that's a fucking safety hazard or some such shit and uh… then I wasn't ok and Bucky helped calm me back down."

He made a mental note to thank Bucky. And took a second to be grateful that Wade's panic hadn't turned violent.

"I'm so sorry." He turned so that he could hug Wade. After he pulled back he asked, "Karen, is that true? Can we not turn off the lights when we're in the shower?"

"You can here," Karen informed them. "Many of the rooms in Avengers Tower don't have traditional light switches installed, and the lighting is instead controlled by JARVIS."

"That is so unnecessary," Peter grumbled. "And can't be up to code."

Wade chuckled. "What do you know about building code, Baby Boy?"

"Not much, but like. What if JARVIS goes offline? Then what?"

"Assuming the building still has power, there are also backup motion detectors installed."

Peter huffed out a breath and muttered, "Ridiculous." Later he might admit that he was only upset about it because of how the setup had affected Wade.

"Do you want to go take a shower now?"

Wade sniffed at his hoodie and made a face. "I should…" Peter could _feel_ the but in his words.

"Still feeling kind of raw, emotionally?"

"A bit."

"Would it help if I joined you?"

"What?"

"Yeah, I mean. Then you can keep your eyes closed."

Wade made a face at him. "With how gross I am, that wouldn't be sexy at all."

"I know? I'm not trying to be sexy, I'm offering to help."

"Oh. Huh."

"Unless you don't feel comfy with me seeing you either, then, uh. Well, apparently we can actually turn out the lights in the bathroom. Or you can give it another try tomorrow."

"That's a lot of options."

"Is that good or bad?"

"I don't know. Um. Do you really not mind showering with me?"

"We've showered together before."

"Yeah, but not like—"

"I don't mind. I wouldn't have offered if I did."

"Then… that. Please."

Peter smiled and shuffled to his feet. "Well, c'mon, then." He kept his grip on Wade's hand gentle but firm as he guided him back to the bathroom.

As they undressed Peter kept leaning forward and stealing quick kisses.

"And if you can't keep your eyes closed, then just look at me, ok? Look at me and focus on how much I fucking love you."

Wade didn't smile, but he managed a nod. "I think I can do that."

 

* * *

 

After the shower they got dressed in their softest and most comfortable clothing and retreated back to the couch, where Peter tucked himself close against Wade's side.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah. More or less. Closer to back to normal.”

Peter hummed and pressed himself even closer. “Good.”

A comfortable silence fell over them for several long minutes and Peter just enjoyed listening to their breathing and Wade’s heartbeat. The sun would probably be coming up soon. He should be tired, he knew. But despite the events of the last night, and how cozy he was, he also felt oddly awake.

“Petey?”

“Hmm?”

“You were acting kind of off the other day, after you got back from hanging out with Ned and MJ. Did something happen?”

Peter groaned softly. “Yeah, kind of?”

“Kind of?”

“It shouldn’t have been a big deal,” he grumbled. “MJ is doing a project thing for… Well, because she’s a giant over-achiever, I think. And she asked me to take this stupid internet quiz that just… hit a little close to home, I guess.”

Wade gave him a curious look. “What kind of internet quiz.”

“Like… some kind of BDSM thing. Hang on.” He pulled away long enough to grab his phone from the table so that he could pull up the link. “There.”

“Let’s test the kink out of you?” Wade read the header on the page and snorted. “Awesome. Can I take it?”

Peter rolled his eyes but appreciated Wade asking. “Sure, I don’t care.”

He still pouted when Wade got up from the couch to retrieve his phone. “Aren’t you millenials always supposed to be glued to your phones anyway?”

Wade gave him a mock offended look as he sat back down, lifting his arm so that Peter could return to his place, nestled up against his side.

“Alright, let’s see.” Wade tapped through the demographic questions, pausing when it asked for his age range for a moment before selecting 25-30.

“Did you forget how old you are?”

“I always want to say 24 for some reason.”

Peter chuckled. “Nope. You’re old.”

Wade snorted. “And yet, here you are.”

“Here I am,” Peter agreed. “C’mon, stop getting distracted. Test.”

“You’re really excited to watch me do something that upset you.”

“Yeah, because it’s not going to upset you. And taking it together might be fun.”

Wade finally clicked through.

> I like to be dominated, especially in the bedroom.

He blew out a long breath through his lips. “They just go right for it, huh?”

“So you know what you’re getting into.”

But Wade still wasn’t quite his usual cavalier self. Peter had expected jokes or mockery, not for him to tense and look uncomfortable.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Babe,” he said carefully. “I didn’t think it would bother you, but—”

“It’s not that I’m bothered,” Wade replied. “It’s that…” He chewed on his lip for a moment before speaking again. “I don’t want you to think that anything I say sounds appealing is like… anything that you need to do, ok?”

“So nothing changes except that I know you a bit better. Got it.” Peter nuzzled against his chest.

Wade sighed. “Trust you to break things down like that,” he muttered before clicking _strongly agree._

Peter blinked. “You like to be dominated in the bedroom?”

“Y-yeah.” Wade very intentionally glanced away from his face. “But like I said, that’s not—”

“I know, I know. You don’t have to keep justifying your answers to me. I’ll do what I want with what I learn.”

He looked back at his own phone. “Here, hang on, I’ll make it more fair.” He brought the test back up and selected that he was _neutral_ for the first question.

“Neutral?”

“Well, I’ve never done it. How can I know if I like it or not?”

“Do you even like the idea?” Wade asked.

“If it’s with you, I don’t hate the idea of giving it a try.”

> I like receiving pain during sex/BDSM and seeing the results of it (marks/bruises, makeup running by tears, etc.) afterwards.

“Do hickeys count?” Peter asked.

Wade snorted. “Do you want them to count?”

“I just mean like… I like when you leave hickeys on me. A lot. But I feel like that’s not really the same thing as “pain” during sex.” He decided that he _slightly disagreed_ while Wade _disagreed_ more firmly.

> If I could make some money from selling porn clips of myself, I definitely would.

“Strongly disagree,” Peter decided immediately. “Not that anyone would want to pay to see me in porn or anything but—”

He was cut off by Wade’s laugher. “Oh, Baby Boy. People would pay _very_ good money to see a cute twink like you getting off.”

Peter coughed and felt himself going red. “What? No. That’s.” He cleared his throat. “Well, what about you?”

“Oh, I also wouldn’t do it, personally. But I’m sure there’d be a market out there somewhere. There’s a market for everything.”

> I don't have any sort of specific fetish or non-standard sexual turn-on.

“Strongly disagree, because I’m pretty sure I have quite a few,” Wade mused.

Peter could only select _neutral_ again. “I don’t know,” he huffed.

“Ah,” Wade said quietly, staring down at the test.

> If I could not fulfil all of my partner's sexual desires, I would encourage them to see other people to fill the gaps.

“Is this what had you all upset?”

Peter shrugged and stared down at his own phone. After a moment he finally selected _disagree._ “I know I’m being selfish,” he said quietly. “But I couldn’t… encourage it. I mean, if you’re ever unhappy and I’m not enough then I might be able to understand but—”

Wade’s arm draped over his shoulders and pulled him against him tightly. “You sweet, sweet little idiot,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Peter’s temple. “Sweetie, we could never ever ever have sex again and you’d still be enough. You’re always _enough.”_

He clicked, _strongly disagree_ as well. “I don’t like to share,” he said simply.

> I want my partner to serve me and address me as a superior.

“Jesus,” Wade muttered, selecting _strongly disagree._ “Not my thing, no.”

“Really?” Peter asked, selecting _neutral_ again.

“You just gonna be neutral for everything Baby?”

Peter shrugged. “Fuckin’ maybe. It’s not my fault I don’t have any experience with this stuff.”

“Try picturing it,” Wade purred. “Me on my hands and knees, your prick down my throat. Then when you come all over my face, I thank you for the opportunity to serve my master.”

He tried to make some sort of coherently response, but instead nothing but a choked off wheeze escaped him. “Ok,” he eventually managed. “That… That might be a little fun.” He looked over to take in Wade’s pleased smile. “You been thinking about that sort of thing lately?”

“Maybe.”

> I could be sexually submissive now, and be sexually dominant another time (either to the same, or to another partner).

“Oooh, let me guess. Neutral?” Wade teased.

“Shut up, what about you?”

“I’ll agree with that. I have my preferences, but I can go either way.”

> I am willing to try anything once, even if I don't think I will like it.

“I wouldn’t say _anything,”_ Wade mused. “Most things, maybe?”

“So, what? Slightly agree?”

“Yeah. Plus, I’m not keen on trying things that I already don’t think I’d like.”

> I enjoy feeling like a prey hunted by a predator.

“Nope,” Wade said simply. _Strongly disagree._

Peter found himself feeling a bit less strongly. It was all about context, after all. A Bad Guy making him feel like prey? That would be awful. But someone he trusted? He made sure he had Wade’s attention when he selected _slightly agree._

“Oh hey, look at you. Having opinions.”

“Shut up.”

> I would like to have sex with multiple people at the same time.

Oh look, Peter had more opinions. _Strongly disagree._ “Who would I even be having sex with?”

Wade giggled at him. “That’s not really the point of the question. It’s not sex with specific people, just… in general.”

He huffed. “It’s a stupid question,” he muttered.

His boyfriend was no less amused as he selected that he agreed.

“You just said you don’t like sharing.”

“This isn’t sharing. This is a threesome. Or an orgy. I’m not saying I’d actually _do it,_ I’m saying that I like the idea.”

Peter hummed and read the next question.

> The idea of being tortured sexually, is appealing.

“No?” He asked. “I… what the fuck does that even mean?”

“In this context…” Wade hummed and considered. “Probably things like orgasm denial, or else going the other direction and forcing someone to orgasm over and over to the point that it’s not enjoyable anymore.”

He frowned. “If it’s not enjoyable… why do it?”

“Because,” Wade spoke slowly and carefully, and Peter was suspicious that his thoughts were born from experience. “When you get into BDSM stuff, the line between “enjoyable” and “satisfying” can get kind of blurry.”

Peter thought about his words for a few moments. His gut instinct was still that, no, that didn’t sound appealing at all. But he’d also be lying if he tried to say that he wasn’t curious.

Plus, Wade had selected that he agreed that the idea was appealing.

“Do you want to try it sometime?” Peter asked in a rush.

“What? You said you didn’t like the idea.”

“Well, I. I don’t know. I still kind of. Like… Call it a “try it at least once” sort of thing?” he offered.

Wade shifted and gave him a long considering look. “Ok,” he finally said. “If you’re serious, we can talk about it more, and maybe give it a try sometime.”

> I will naturally take on a nurturing and guiding, almost parental role in a relationship.

“Not really,” Wade said.

“No, you totally do,” Peter corrected.

 _“Peter,”_ Wade sighed. “I know we tease, but I definitely don’t think of you as my kid.”

Peter snorted. “I hope not,” he grinned. “And I don’t mean it like that. You _obviously_ don’t actually act like my parent, but you can’t deny you have a tendency to be all,” he gestured. “Guidance-y and nurturing and stuff.”

Wade sighed and _slightly agreed._ “Fine, but you do it too.”

“Yeah, but I’m not in denial about it.”

“And it’s not a kinky thing.”

“Sometimes it is,” Peter teased. “A little bit.”

“No.”

“Oh, bullshit. Like there wasn’t at least some tiny part of you that was super _into_ me being an inexperienced virgin?”

Ha! Wade was blushing this time. “That makes me sound like a creep,” he grumbled.

“But we both know you’re not one,” Peter said, resting his head on Wade’s shoulder again. “Besides, I liked it. I felt very safe knowing that you knew what you were doing.”

“Good,” Wade deflated against him.

> I feel the need to serve my partner and treat them with the highest respect, addressing them as a superior.

“Not a _need,”_ Wade clarified. “But I do enjoy it.” _Slightly agree._

Peter shrugged and selected _neutral._ “I just don’t really have an opinion on this one, sorry. I don’t hate the idea?” he offered. “Here, what about:”

> I like to dominate my partner(s), especially in the bedroom.

“I also enjoy that,” Wade smiled.

Peter felt himself getting a bit annoyed at how many things he was having to say he felt “neutrally” about.

> I like inflicting pain during sex/BDSM and seeing the results of it (marks/bruises, makeup running by tears, etc.) afterwards.

“Big nope,” Wade decided easily.

Peter decided he just disagreed. “What if I wanted it?”

“What? Me to hurt you?”

“Yeah.”

“Tough shit.”

Peter grinned at Wade’s rebuke. “Ok, good.”

“Wait. Do you want that?”

“I’d file that under, “try anything once”, more than something I’d actually want,” Peter explained. “But if you don’t want to do it, then we won’t do it. Easy peasy.”

> I like to be sexually degraded and humiliated by my partner(s) sometimes.

Wade swallowed as he agreed.

“Really?” Peter asked. “What uh… what does that entail?”

He shrugged. “Could be uh… things like name calling. Objectification. I...there’s a lot of things that could be.”

“Oh. Ok, then, what kinds of things do you enjoy?”

Peter couldn’t help the warm pleasure that bubbled in his chest at finally seeing _Wade_ looking so off-balance while they spoke about sex.

“I’d have to think about,” Wade said. “It’s been a while and… some stuff I used to enjoy, I don’t think I’d like it now.”

“Ok. Well, you think about it and get back to me.”

Ew. That had come off sounding more demanding than Peter had intended. He made to backtrack and apologize but was cut off by Wade’s quiet, “Alright.”

Ok then. He could work with that.

> I enjoy playing a different age than what I technically am.

“What is with some of these questions?” Peter frowned, selecting _strongly disagree._

Wade chucked and _disagreed_ himself. “Half the time I don’t even remember how old I actually am. Maybe I’m constantly playing at being a different age than I really am.”

> My sex life consisting solely of giving oral sex and masturbating, sounds like a scenario I could be happy with.

Peter blinked at the question. Well, yeah. That sounded like a perfectly fine scenario to him. Finally, something he could _strongly agree_ with!

He watched as Wade’s eyes flicked between their phones and Peter’s face.

“Just answer the question, Babe. I already know it’s not something you’d like.”

Wade clicked _strongly disagree._ “I mean, again, not having sex at all would be fine,” he stumbled out. “I can get myself off with the best of them. If it were an olympic game, I’d—”

“Wade. It’s ok, really.”

“But this implies that I am having a sex life but not…”

“You don’t have to justify it. You want more than just sucking me off and masturbation. That’s fine. Hell, _I_ want more than that from our sex life.”

Wade finally calmed back down. “Sorry.”

Peter shook his head. “This is a weird situation for you. That’s ok.”

> I like to be completely in charge in the bedroom, and order my partner(s) around.

“Not _completely_ in charge,” Wade said, disagreeing.

Peter had a harder time picturing this one. “No idea,” he said honestly. _Neutral_.

> I like my partner(s) to be completely in charge in the bedroom, ordering me around.

Wade selected _strongly agree_ before Peter had finished reading the question.

“Oh yeah?” Peter grinned, nudging him. “Want me to order you around?”

“You just decided you were neutral on it…”

“Because I’ve never done it before. We’ll throw it on the “at least once” pile, ok?”

“That… that sounds nice,” Wade admitted.

Peter decided he didn’t have an opinion. Maybe he could ask Wade to trade places at least once, too, so he could find out of he liked it or not.

And then he nearly choked on the next question.

> I enjoy being used as a urinal.

He didn’t even have to try to think about that one. “Nope.” _Strongly disagree._

“Well, now I feel like I should also strongly disagree to keep from grossing you out.”

Peter blinked. “Do you… do you _not_ strongly disagree?”

Wade smirked and Peter couldn’t tell if he was being teased or not. “It’s a pretty niche thing, to be sure.”

“Wade, yes or no, do you want me to pee on you?”

He shook his head, “It’s not so much that I want it. More like… if you wanted to, I’d want you to.”

“What.”

But when Wade opened his mouth to offer further explanation, Peter just reached over and covered it. “Nevermind. I’ll just process that later.

> I enjoy being verbally degraded or called humiliating names during sex/BDSM.

“Ah. Here’s the thing that I don’t know if I’d enjoy anymore or not.”

“Name calling?”

“Basically.”

Peter paused. “Wait. Is that what the pee thing is? Humiliation?”

“I thought you weren’t going to—”

“Wade.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“So not just like… a pee thing?”

Wade smiled. “Yeah. I’m not just turned on by piss, I promise.”

 _Oh thank God,_ Peter opted not to say.

Wade decided he was _neutral_ on the verbal humiliation question.

Peter was too. He didn’t think he’d like it, but, well. Stranger things had happened. Maybe he’d be into it? “We should try it sometime, if you want. I mean, we’d talk about it a lot first, but…”

“Sure,” Wade nodded, squinting at the next question.

> There is no reason why sex would have to happen in private spaces, isolated from the outside world.

“Is it just asking if I’m an exhibitionist?” he wondered.

Wade was _neutral,_ and Peter _disagreed._

“No, there’s a reason you don’t just have sex wherever. I mean, for one: hygiene is important. Two: don’t fuck in front of children.”

Wade laughed so hard he doubled over for a moment. “Peter, what the fuck?”

“That’s why you have sex in private!”

“Oh my God,” Wade shook and snickered. “What about like clubs and shit?”

“Normal clubs or sex clubs?”

“Either?”

“One of those places is designed with sex in mind, Wade. You can’t just fuck where random strangers could come across you.”

“Sex is perfectly natural—”

“Wade, I’ve stumbled upon enough fucking exibitionists to know that nothing they do is “perfectly natural”.”

He crossed his arms and waited while Wade was sent into another laughing fit.

> I often behave in animalistic ways during sex (growling, howling, etc.).

“I don’t think I do,” Wade considered.

“No, but you totally should,” Peter grinned.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like the idea of you getting so into it that you start growling and shit.”

They both selected _disagree_ but decided that they should definitely try it out.

> In an ideal relationship, I should have no hard limits, my life should belong to my partner and they should decide what is good for me.

“Oh fuck no,” Wade said immediately. “That just sounds toxic as hell.”

Peter was quick to agree with Wade’s assessment.

> I like to sexually degrade and/or humiliate my partner(s) sometimes.

“I might,” Peter mused as he selected _neutral._ “I’m very willing to find out.”

Wade smiled. “Once in a while, maybe? It’s not really something I’ve ever done…”

“Try it once?”

“Sure, we can try it once.”

> I would like it when my partner is completely tied up during sex/BDSM.

Peter thought about it for a moment, and then shrugged. “Maybe?”

Wade selected _slightly agree._ “I don’t dislike it,” he offered.

> Being treated with little or no respect during sex/BDSM arouses me.

“Er.” Peter shrugged. It didn’t sound like something he’d like, but during sex it’d be… it’d be for fun, right? So maybe? _Neutral._

“You might be overthinking things,” Wade offered. _Agree._

“You like to be disrespected? Oh. Humiliation thing?”

“Don’t judge me.”

Peter scoffed. “I’m not. I’m just trying to understand what you like.”

> I enjoy being kept as a pet: in a cage, eating out of a bowl, being petted/caressed, etc.

Nothing about that sounded appealing to Peter. _Strongly disagree._

“Yeah, kind of a hard no for me too,” Wade agreed. _Strongly disagree._ “I can understand the idea of why some people enjoy it, but…” he trailed off.

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. Wade didn’t need to explain.

> I find the romantic aspect in a relationship much more important than the sexual or kinky aspects.

Why couldn’t the quiz have started _there?_ Peter glared at it, easily selecting _strongly agree._

Wade leaned over and pressed another kiss to the side of his head. Something loosened in his chest when Wade selected _agree_ for himself. “The sex part is also important,” he clarified. “But the romantic part is… moreso.”

> I enjoy people seeing me being naked or having sex, even (or especially) when they didn't intend to do so.

“I couldn’t disagree more,” Wade wrinkled his nose at the thought. Which was fair. Peter was pretty sure that most of the time Wade didn’t even like Peter seeing him naked.

“You don’t just do it for me, do you?” Peter asked.

“I like being naked with you.”

“Yeah, but that’s not really the same, is it?”

Wade gave him a thoughtful look then ran his hand through Peter’s hair. “I don’t hate it when you see me naked,” he hedged. “And I think that’s a good place for me to start.”

Peter nodded his agreement.

He still _strongly disagreed_ on the quiz. “I like it when it’s you. I think anyone else would make me really uncomfortable but you… Not if it’s you.”

Wade cooed at him for a moment before moving to the next question.

> Being part of a group of slaves that serves one Master/Mistress, sounds like a life that would really suit me.

“No thank you.” _Strongly disagree._

“No sharing?” Peter clarified while he thought over the question.

“Nope. If I’m gonna serve someone, it’s just me and them.”

Peter didn’t think he particularly liked the idea of serving a Master/Mistress at all. Certainly not as a lifestyle. And doing so with others… _strongly disagree._

> Talking back to one's dominant in a teasingly disobeying way, should be part of the sub's fun.

“Oh, absolutely.” Wade grinned, agreeing.

Peter let out a sigh and accepted that he didn’t know enough to have an opinion one way or the other. He’d gotten used to actually having thoughts about the questions, damn it.

> I'd like to submit to my partner 24/7 and see serving them as my life purpose.

_Ask and you shall receive,_ Peter supposed. “I have enough life purposes, thank you.”

Wade chuckled, but also _disagreed._ “The fantasy is kind of fun, but the reality… Not for me, at any rate.” Despite his teasing words, the lightness was missing from Wade’s tone.

“Hey, we can stop if we need to,” Peter said quietly.

“Hmm? Do you need to, Sweetheart?”

“No, but. If this is bringing back bad memories…”

“I’m fine,” Wade assured him.

> Being in fear of what my partner is going to do to me physically, is arousing.

Wade was _not fine_ Peter was pretty sure, given how tight his grip on his phone became.

Peter was starting to get something of a picture of what sorts of things Wade did like. Submitting to someone he trusted seemed to be appealing. Being used and humiliated, maybe. Even being peed on, apparently? But scary things or surprises needed to be off the table.

He’d need to step up his dirty talk.

Peter didn’t really like the idea of being _afraid_ during sex either. Not in the kind of context the rest of the test had built up.

> I enjoy dressing or behaving like a child, or engaging in child-appropriate activities such as coloring in a coloring book or going to a playground.

“I mean, I _do,_ but not in a kinky way,” Wade lamented. “How do I answer that?”

“Honestly?” Peter shrugged, hitting _slightly agree._

“Don’t judge me,” Wade muttered, _strongly agreeing._

> I like to be totally helpless and at my partner's disposal, physically unable to resist what they do.

Peter wasn’t sure, as per usual at this point. But he’d been expecting Wade to easily answer _strongly disagree._ Surely this would be the same sort of feelings that the idea of being a _pet_ had drummed up, right?

But instead Wade smiled at whatever he was imagining and _agreed._

_Interesting._

> I enjoy feeling like a predator hunting its prey.

“A little bit,” Wade admitted. _Slightly agree._

Peter just shrugged. “I… Maybe?” _Neutral._

> Physically restricting my partner during sex/BDSM (with clothes, attributes, rope, chains, etc.) is arousing.

He sighed at the wording of the question. Well, no, it wasn’t _arousing,_ per say. But it wasn’t necessarily unappealing either. And if Wade was selecting things simply based on how he felt about things—not necessarily meaning that it was something Peter should feel the need to do…

_Agree._

Wade was smirking at him. “You wanna tie me up, Baby Boy?”

Peter shrugged. “Only if you want me to.”

The smirk grew into a grin and Peter briefly wondered if the quiz was about to be abandoned. Instead, Wade kept grinning at his phone and _agreed_ as well.

So, Wade liked the idea of tying him up, too? Yeah that was… They could try that. For sure.

> It's no big deal when things I try turn out bad for me. It's part of the risk and it's a necessary part of discovering what works and what doesn't.

Wade hummed at the question. “I think that depends on just how badly things go. There’s a difference between finding out you don’t like something versus something _really_ upsetting or triggering you.”

“I feel pretty confident that they’re leaning more towards the former.” Still, Wade’s thoughts made him less certain about it, so he could only _slightly agree._

Wade still _disagreed._

> I have plenty of sexual fantasies that I would like to try out, more than most of my kinky peers.

“I don’t fucking know,” Peter groaned. “Are any of my peers kinky?”

“Probably,” Wade offered, amused. “Didn’t Ned and MJ talk you into doing this?”

Peter desperately tried to shove away anything along that train of thought. He knew they were having sex, but that didn’t mean he wanted to _think about it._ Especially not if they were… He groaned again. “Thanks for that.”

Wade snickered like an asshole and selected that he _agreed._

“You sure? I feel like Dopinder might surprise you.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Wade groused. “Why would you say something like that about my Honey Bear?”

Peter smiled to himself.

> Assuming I was single, I would like to join an existing couple's or polygroup's relationship for sexual and/or emotional purposes.

They both _disagreed._

“Like, never say never, but it’s not something I’d seek out,” Wade commented.

> The idea of torturing someone sexually, is appealing.

After a moment Peter decided he was _neutral._ Honestly he wasn’t really sure at all. The whole “enjoyable versus satisfying” was still more than a little bit confusing for him.

Wade’s eyes flickered over to him before he hit _agree._

> I enjoy verbally degrading my partner or calling them humiliating names during sex/BDSM.

Peter was _neutral._ Again.

Wade was able to _disagree,_ though.

“So you like to be degraded, but not doing the degrading?” Peter ventured.

“Pretty much. I think.”

“When was the last time you got to like… do any of this?”

Wade didn’t meet his curious gaze. “A while.”

Peter was suspicious that _a while_ actually meant _before._

His mind flickered back to the photo he’d found at Wade’s apartment. He didn’t know how it felt, but he could imagine how having your identity torn away from you like Wade had had done to him could pretty easily fuck with your enjoyment of verbal humiliation. If that was something you enjoyed at all.

> I believe that there is a natural order of things, which dictates that men are dominant and women are submissive.

Wade just fucking cackled. “Oh my god, no.” _Strongly disagree._ “I know there are people who think that, but I always have to wonder: have they _met_ any women?”

Peter was quick to _strongly disagree_ as well. “Maybe they haven’t met many kinky women?” He considered. “Or, more likely, they just think of the women that don’t fit in their mold as “outliers” rather than an actual part of the data set.”

“Nerd,” Wade poked him on the nose. “You’re such a fucking nerd.”

“Yeah, but you love it.”

“I do,” Wade agreed. “I love it very much.”

> I enjoy and take pride in being a good domestic servant for my partner, taking care of all household chores like cooking, cleaning, etc.

They shared a look and giggled. Sure, the apartment wasn’t awful or anything. But to say that _either of them_ really stayed on top of chores like that was laughable. And even when they did suck it up and deal with them, it was a matter of necessity, not pride.

“I do like cooking for you, though,” Wade mused.

“I don’t think that’s the same thing as being a “good domestic servant” though.”

“Oh my, no. But still. And I like watching you vacuum.”

Peter snorted. “What, why?”

“Because it means I don’t have to do it.”

They both selected _disagree._ Peter didn’t feel so strongly about it to _strongly disagree._

> I have a thing for large age differences in sexual encounters or relationships.

Wade choked and _disagreed._

“Mmhmm,” Peter hummed.

“Shut up. It’s not something I sought out or anything,” Wade huffed.

“Sure, sure.” Peter was still giggling as he selected _slightly agree._

“Jesus Christ.”

“Yep, you’ve ruined me.”

“Pete,” Wade whined.

“Too far?” Peter asked, dropping all hints of amusement from his voice. Wade still had some hang-ups about their situation, he knew.

“I don’t know,” Wade muttered. Then, “A little,” he admitted.

“Sorry.” Peter leaned against him and switched his answer to _slightly disagree._ “I don’t _actually_ have a thing for it. You’re an outlier.”

“You sure I’m not just a part of the data set?”

“Pretty sure.” Peter shrugged. “Most of my crushes have been on people my own age.”

“Most?”

“I’ve only had like 3,” he explained. “And two of them were people my age. Plus you.”

“You should tell me about your other two crushes sometime.”

“Sometime,” Peter said as noncommittally as possible. He couldn’t name why the idea of that conversation made him uncomfortable. He didn’t think that it was the idea of sharing stuff with Wade. He’d have to think on it more. Later. Possibly much later.

> Being physically restricted during sex/BDSM (with clothes, attributes, rope, chains, etc.) is arousing.

He couldn’t decide if he should be surprised or not by Wade _strongly agreeing._ Peter was definitely going to figure out a way to tie him up with something.

“Damn, back to not having opinions,” he sighed.

“I think you totally have opinions on a lot of this stuff,” Wade pointed out.

“Maybe, but I don’t have the experience to back them up.”

“Well, what does your gut instinct say?”

Peter sighed and stared at the question. “That usually being tied up is scary… But that the idea of something I _trust_ tying me up is… less scary? Or like… a good kind of scary? I don’t know, it’s complicated.”

Wade nuzzled against the side of his head. “Answer however you’re most comfortable, then.”

“That’s what I’ve _been_ doing.”

> I enjoy keeping my partner as a pet: providing them with a cage, feeding them out of a bowl, petting/caressing them, etc.

“There, see. I have opinions. This is… not something that appeals to me. At all.”

“Not even a little?” Wade asked as he also selected _strongly disagree._

“Nope. There’s demeaning and then there’s…” he gestured at his phone. “This.”

> I enjoy watching people being naked or having sex, even (or especially) when they're unaware that I'm watching.

“Are we talking about porn or voyeurism?” Wade wondered.

“Uh, voyeurism, I think?”

“Well, those are really different things,” Wade frowned. “Porn is awesome. Watching people who can’t consent to being watched is creepy.”

Peter selected _strongly disagree._ He wasn’t a huge fan of porn, either, if he was being honest.

After a few moments more hesitation Wade followed suit. “I am many things. A voyeur isn’t one of them.”

> I enjoy playing or acting like a pet animal (dog, cat, pony, etc.)

“I would never be able to take it seriously,” Peter said. “I’d be a giggling mess is what I’d be.”

“I could do it,” Wade said, selecting that he was _neutral._

“Do you want to try it sometime?”

Wade shrugged. “Maybe. Might be fun. Once in a while.”

Peter didn’t think he’d be able to take Wade playing at being a pet seriously either. But also: pretending to be a pet so long as no cage (or food bowls?) was involved seemed to be ok.

His boyfriend was a fucking enigma.

> Treating my partner with little or no respect during sex/BDSM arouses me.

_Neutral/No Opinion._ “This thing wasn’t designed with asexuals in mind,” he complained.

“It literally says, “What Kind of Sexual Deviant Are You?” in the header,” Wade pointed out. “What did you expect?”

“Whatever. What about you?”

Wade _slightly disagreed._

> I'd like my partner(s) to submit to me 24/7 and I'm willing to take the responsibility that comes with it.

“Fuck, I can barely take care of myself,” Wade huffed. “No one should have me taking care of them 24/7.” _Strongly disagree._

Peter agreed. Both that he shouldn’t have that responsibility, but also that Wade definitely shouldn’t either.

> I enjoy it when people watch me being naked or having sex.

“Didn’t we already answer this?” Wade asked.

“Kinda. Before it was if it was like… a surprise for them. I guess now it’s if they can consent to it?”

“Still don’t like it,” Wade decided.

Neither did Peter. But agreed upon nudity was still way better than surprise nudity.

> I could not be always dominant or always submissive, I need both.

“Oh, I could definitely just always be submissive.”

That… surprised Peter. “Really? I thought you liked being dominant too?”

“I do like it. But I like being submissive a lot more.” _Disagree._

 _Neutral._ “Am I boring?” Peter asked.

“Nope,” Wade assured him easily. “Very not boring. Just inexperienced.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “Which, possibly, makes you extra not boring. As you pointed out earlier.”

“Ha.” Peter knew he was blushing, but it was because of something pleasing rather than embarrassing for once. “Told you.”

> I would like to be nothing but a 24/7 sex slave (i.e. not having any human interaction outside of sex and BDSM).

_Strongly disagree,_ Peter decided immediately.

Wade chuckled at whatever face he’d made at the question. “It’s kind of a nice fantasy.” _Agree._

“I mean, if you say so.”

> I love seeing the fear in my partner's eyes when they know I'm going to inflict pain on them.

Wade only selected _strongly disagree._ No fun commentary included.

It made Peter’s chest ache. He didn’t like the idea either, and also selected _strongly disagree._ They didn’t need to talk about it. They both _knew._

> I would be willing to leave everything I have behind, to live the BDSM-life of my dreams.

Although Peter _disagreed_ he glanced over to Wade. “Another fun fantasy?”

“Sure.” His voice was tight. _Neutral._

“Wade—”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you aren’t.”

> If part of my sexual desires are not fulfilled with my partner, I would want to see other people to fill the gaps.

Wade read off the next question rather than properly acknowledging Peter’s insistence.

Peter only glanced down quickly enough to click _strongly disagree_ before looking back up. “We can stop, dude. It’s not a big deal.”

“I’m fine,” he said again. His tone of voice almost had Peter believing him.

“You’re allowed to be upset when things make you think of bad stuff,” Peter tried.

“It’s a stupid quiz. There’s no sense in getting upset by it.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. He was 99% sure Wade wasn’t trying to bait him or take a cheap shot. But that didn’t make the comment sting any less. “Right. Because no one ever gets upset by things like stupid quizzes. And it definitely doesn’t lead to stupid asinine fights with their boyfriend.”

Wade’s eyes went wide. “That’s not what I—”

“I know it’s not. The point isn’t that this quiz also upset me before. Or maybe it is. Because I get it.”

Wade looked back down at his phone and selected _strongly disagree._

“Maybe I don’t want to stop because I want to know your answer to the next question.”

Peter gave him a curious look then read off the next question.

> I find it adorable when my partner acts or dresses childlike, or when they engage in childlike activities such as coloring in a coloring book or playing on a playground.

“I always find you pretty adorable,” he smiled. _Strongly agree._

“Not always.”

“Yep. All the time. Even when you’re regrowing body parts or maybe using a little more violence than is strictly necessary. Somehow it’s still adorable.”

Wade snorted. “Liar.”

“Yes,” Peter agreed. “But I _do_ actually find it super cute when you get all excited about stuff like Pokemon, or really nicely made coloring books.”

After a moment Wade hit agree. “I’m having to use my imagination. You’re so busy trying to be a mature adult all the time. But I bet you’d be adorable as fuck if watching you play with Ellie is any indication.”

“Then we just need to have Ellie over more often, obviously.”

> I would like to be completely tied up during sex/BDSM.

“Oooh, back to the fun kinky stuff!” Wade chirped. “Very very strongly agree.”

Peter blinked. Cages were a no but being completely tied up was ok?

“And back to me not knowing if I’d like it or not.”

> I enjoy using my partner(s) as urinals.

Wade looked thoughtfully at the question. “Hmm.”

“You’re not pissing on me,” Peter told him firmly.

“That’s not what the question is asking, Sweetheart. Not whether or not I’m going to do it, but if I’d like to do it.”

Peter huffed and _disagreed._ He might— _might!_ —be willing to consider doing it for Wade. But that didn’t mean he’d necessarily _enjoy_ it.

Wade giggled and also selected that he _disagreed._ Peter almost wanted to be mad at Wade for teasing him like that.

> I like being forced into submission, much more than submitting spontaneously.

“Mmm, nope,” Wade said. _Strongly disagree._

Peter tried to give the question its fair consideration, but it was hard since his mind wanted instead to keep trying to track and categorize Wade’s answers.

 _Slightly disagree._ “Gut instinct says that I wouldn’t like it,” he explained. “Like, even if we talked about it, and I knew it was coming. But maybe I’d surprise myself? I don’t know.”

> I like forcing my partner into submission, much more than them submitting spontaneously.

Wade _strongly disagreed_ again. “I have a pretty strong preference for more willing submission,” he explained. “Even if it’s all fun and games…”

Peter nodded. _Slightly disagree._ “It’s too similar to the shit we deal with out in the real world,” Peter offered. “Even if it’s only pretend forcing… I get that.”

“What’s the face for, then?”

He hadn’t realized he’d been making a face. He chewed on his lip as he considered how he wanted to answer—if he wanted to answer. “When I went on that job with you,” he started cautiously, keeping an eye on Wade’s expression. “And uh. You… Well, Deadpool-You,” he clarified. “I wouldn’t call it _forced_ per say but…”

“But?”

“I kind of… really liked it?”

Wade looked disbelieving. “I hurt you and _laughed about it.”_

Peter rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t as bad as you’ve made it out to be in your head. You bit me.”

“And laughed when you told me to knock it off.”

“Only because I was being a little bitch about it.”

_“Peter.”_

“Or did you forget the part where I was hard as a rock and clinging to you at first? I think you’re allowed to be confused by the _very_ mixed signals I was sending.”

“That’s,” Wade gaped at him. “You also got pissed off and shoved me off of you.”

“Sure. Because I was pretty sure I knew how things were gonna go if I _didn’t_ and neither of us were ready to fuck yet.”

“But you _liked it?”_

“Yeah. And, you know, I’m pretty sure I’d like it more now that I’d be less concerned about us maybe needing to like… Stop ourselves from going too far.” He was determined to hold Wade’s gaze for as long as Wade would meet his.

“You… want me to hurt you?”

“No,” Peter corrected carefully. “I like the idea of you holding me down and biting me. That’s… not really the same thing.”

He wasn’t sure if Wade disagreed with him or not. He only swallowed and looked back to the quiz.

Fine, they could talk about it more later.

And if Wade never wanted to do anything like that again, well, that would be fine, too.

> Living with a group of slaves owned by me and serving me, would be my ultimate life goal.

“Yeah, no. I think I’m a really big fan of a monogamy.”

Wade chuckled and also _strongly disagreed._ “To each their own.”

“You also disagreed.”

“That’s ‘cause I don’t want a harem of slaves.”

“What about a harem of masters?”

Wade stroked his chin. “Fun fantasy,” he decided.

> I enjoy watching people being naked or having sex.

Peter shook his head. _Strongly disagree._

“I mean, if they’re consenting to it, sure.” Wade shrugged. _Agree._

“Is that something you’ve done?” Peter asked.

“Not in a long time,” was all Wade would give him.

> I am, generally speaking, a very sexual person.

Peter snorted. _Strongly disagree._

He wasn’t even slightly surprised by Wade’s, _strong agreement._ Spending 5 minutes with Wade would remove any doubt that anyone might somehow manage to hold about that.

> I would like to serve in a formal setting with explicit slave training, prescribed physical positions and rituals, etc.

The idea didn’t appeal to Peter. _Disagree._

“That could actually be really fun,” Wade muttered to himself.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean. Maybe. Depends on the place and all, but…”

“Try anything once?” Peter offered when Wade clicked _agree._

“Would you be comfortable with something like that?”

Peter shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t know enough to say, but like… I’d rather regret trying something than regret never trying it?”

Wade let out a fond purr—Peter didn’t have a better word for the sound.

“Ok, last question.”

> I like when my partner takes on a nurturing and guiding, almost parental role in a relationship.

“I think we already established that, yes, I like that,” Peter answered. _Strongly agree._

Plus he really enjoyed the embarrassed but happy look on Wade’s face. So sue him.

 _Agree,_ Wade selected.

“Wow,” Peter said flatly. I’m super vanilla. Shocking.” He skimmed over the other results.

He narrowed his eyes. “What’s a boy/girl?”

Wade glanced over at his results. “Click on it for a definition.”

> Littles (girls/boys) are submissive spirits that mix childlike innocence with naughty sexual curiosity. They long for a nurturing loving dominant who plays a guiding, almost parental role in their lives. While they require a softer approach to be dominated than most other submissives, their submission can go a lot deeper and sometimes rival those of slaves.

Peter coughed. “Jesus,” he was back to embarrassed blushing.

“Aww,” Wade cooed. “I would be the sweetest gentlest dom ever for you, Baby Boy.”

“Shut up,” Peter muttered, burying his face in Wade’s arm. “How high up are you on the Daddy scale?”

“I’m up there,” Wade admitted.

Peter peeked at Wade’s phone. “What’s a Rope Bunny?”

> Rope bunny likes to be tied up and restrained, using rope and/or other attributes (chains, cuffs, spreader bars, etc.). Whether for sexual enhancement, for art or just for fun, they enjoy being totally at the mercy of their partner(s). Rope bunnies typically match well with riggers.

“Oh. It’s what it sounds like, ok.” He paused. “Am I a rigger?” He skimmed down again. “Eh. 51%. I assume that’s someone who likes tying others up?”

“Yep!”

Curiosity got to Peter and he clicked on Daddy/Mommy.

> Daddies/Mommies take on a caretaker role in the relationship, being a guide as much a dominant. Daddies/Mommies dominate their little treasure submissives with an iron fist in a velvet glove: much cuddly and affectionate on the outside, while being as sturdy and hard on the inside as other dominants. Using subtle psychological mechanisms rather than brute power, they nurture their littles into obedience.

He snorted. “You couldn’t nurture me into obedience if your life depended on it.”

Wade fixed him with a decidedly feral grin. “Want to bet?”

 _Yes,_ Peter realized. He did kind of want to bet. He swallowed as he realized he also kind of wanted to lose that bet.

“Oh hey,” he said rather than share those thoughts out loud. “We match up pretty well as far as dominant and submissive goes at least.”

Wade hummed, letting Peter change the subject. “Does that mean you want to boss me around?”

Peter shifted. The idea of Wade having to just _listen to him_ and do what he said was actually pretty appealing. Not all the time, necessarily, but… Sometimes.

“Would you like that?”

“Yes.”

He pulled his bottom lip between his lip and considered it. _Really_ considered it.

“I think… Me too?” he offered. “I mean, like.” He set his phone down on the table so that he could turn his full attention to Wade. “You uh. Have this tendency to second guess what I want out of things.”

Wade followed suit and set his phone down as well. “I do,” he admitted, rather than trying to argue.

“But… if I’m in charge, that’s… That would be harder, right? Because if I’m in charge, I’m _definitely_ only doing things because I want to, right?”

He nodded.

“Ok, so. What would that look like? Er, what would you want that to look like?”

Wade balked a little. “Just because I like the idea doesn’t mean we have to—”

“Wade.” He snapped out his boyfriend’s name with as much force as he could manage.

He had Wade’s attention back immediately.

“Stop that. Right now, your job is to tell me what, specifically, appeals to you. Let me worry about if it’s something I’d be comfortable doing or not. Understand?”

It took a moment before Wade nodded. “Yes sir.”

That… was unexpected. But hey, Peter was nothing if not flexible. He could work with that.

“Ok, so. Well, hell, you got a 99% on being a Rope Bunny. Would you like me to tie you up?”

Wade nodded.

“Alright. Entirely?”

He watched Wade shift uncomfortably, but his reply wasn’t forthcoming.

“Babe, you have to talk to me here.”

“I… Not at first?” he said quietly. “I like the idea in theory but in practice it might…”

It might freak him out. Peter nodded. “So maybe something more like tying your arms behind your back? Or to the bed?”

Wade shuffled again.

Peter allowed himself a disapproving sigh. “How’m I supposed to plan anything if you don’t communicate with me?”

“You’re planning something?”

“Yep. So. Do you not like either of those ideas?”

“No, I do. Both. But.” He sighed. “I think I’d prefer behind my back? That’d be… It’d be easier to get out of. Just in case.”

“Thank you.”

Wade’s calmed expression made Peter realize that he was teetering on the edge of _something_ that could open up and swallow him whole if he wasn’t careful.

“Next question. What would you like me to use?”

“Huh?”

“Well, the quiz mentioned like… Ropes? Chains? Articles of cloth—” Wade was shaking his head, so Peter stopped.

“Not…” his pupils were widened, but there was nothing like lust there. It was _fear._ And the look made Peter feel sick.

Peter pushed himself up so that he could cradle Wade’s face. “Hey, it’s ok. Whatever it is that you don’t want to do, that’s ok. We won’t. Ever.”

“What if, um.” Similarly, Peter wasn’t used to seeing Wade so awkward talking about things he wanted. It didn’t bring up the same feelings of _fun_ as it had earlier. “Could you web me?”

“Web you?” Peter blinked.

“I,” Wade leaned his head against Peter’s hand. “I like the idea of being tied up. And I don’t have all the like… bad connotations with your webs that I do with… other stuff. So…”

“So you want me to web your arms behind your back? For fun sexy kinky stuff?”

“Yes.”

“Ok. We can do that,” Peter agreed, calming back down as he watched Wade relax again.

“You know it’s ok to want things from me, right?” Peter asked softly.

“I guess.”

“No, not ‘I guess’,” Peter pressed their foreheads together. “It just is. That doesn’t mean I’ll always want the same things. But you’re allowed to want things. And to ask me for them. I’m never gonna get mad about it.”

“You might.”

“I am very unlikely to ever get mad about it,” he corrected. “And it won’t ever because you want to have sex with me.” He smiled softly. “Even if you ask me to piss on you.”

Wade laughed and moved so that he could tuck his head against Peter’s shoulder. “Really?”

“And if you catch me in the right mood I might even agree.”

He could feel Wade shake with laughter as he grinned, nuzzling against Peter’s head until he could press his mouth against Peter’s neck. “You really want me to bite you again?”

Peter wrapped his arms around Wade’s shoulders and tilted his head to the side. “Yes.” He let _only if you want to_ remain unstated. He hoped it obvious.

"Ok," Wade breathed against his neck. "If it's too much, or I hurt you—"

"I'll say something, _Jesus."_ He bunched up the material of Wade's shirt between his fingers.

For a long moment Wade hesitated, his lips barely grazing Peter's skin.

It was a fucking exercise in saint-like patience while Peter waited for Wade to just _get on with it._

Eventually Wade's tongue darted out, leaving a trail of kitten licks up Peter's throat.

"Please," he whispered, despite his best intentions of letting Wade just take as much time as he needed. He knew that Wade found the idea of even _possibly_ causing him pain abhorrent, but _surely_ he knew this didn't hurt, right?

"So needy," Wade murmured before finally— _finally—_ catching skin between his teeth.

Peter closed his eyes and clung tighter as Wade nipped and licked and kissed at his neck. Then he gasped when Wade started sucking what would likely become an impressive, if short-lived, bruise on his collarbone.

Wade's arms wrapped around Peter, and one of his hands drifted up to sink into Peter's hair. _Holding him still._

The next bite was harsher and Peter didn't manage to completely hold back the whimper that echoed from feeling teeth against his pulse.

"Feels good," he said, before Wade had any chance to misinterpret the sound. "Don't stop."

Wade gave the spot a parting kiss before pulling back and releasing Peter's hair. "Sorry." He looked something akin to apologetic. If you looked past his panting breaths and lust blown eyes.

"I love when you look like this," Peter admitted. "Love that _I_ make you look like this." He mirrored Wade's smile. "Why'd you stop?"

"Because having you there, squirming against me and whining in my ear," Peter didn't think he'd been doing much of either of those things, but, well. It wouldn't surprise him if he was. "It makes me want to hold you down and…" he trailed off.

"Hold me down and what?" He asked, as if he didn't already know.

"And fuck you," Wade growled softly. "I want to press myself up against you, and inside you, and leave you _really_ whining and crying out from how good I’m making you feel."

Peter swallowed. "I, um. I'm failing to see a problem with that plan."

Wade chuckled and leaned over pressing the palm of his hand against Peter's dick.

He took a deep breath and grit his teeth, biting back everything he wanted to say. They were _not_ going to have that argument again. Not right now.

“Hey, no, calm down,” Wade soothed quietly. “This isn’t about you not being horny.” He paused. “Well, it is, but not in the way that you’re thinking.”

“Then what way is it? I don’t care if only one of us is getting off, or if it’s kind of uncomfortable—”

Wade pressed a finger against his lips. "Keep making that argument and one of these days I really will shove something up your ass when you're not horny," he threatened.

Peter swallowed as the threat sent a thrum of… something up his spine. Curiosity? Intrigue? _Want?_ He wanted to know what that was like. He wanted _Wade_ to show him what it was like.

“Ok. We can do that.”

“Jesus Christ,” Wade muttered, grinding his hand down against Peter’s dick. It didn’t hurt, but it was an obvious reprimand. “No, we can’t.”

“Why not?”

Wade just shook his head. _“Because,_ that was supposed to be a threat, not an _offer.”_

“Well, don’t make your threats so appealing, then.” Peter grinned at Wade’s frustrated expression. “Fine, fine. C’mon. What do you want to do instead then?”

“Instead?”

Peter reached between them and snaked his hand between Wade’s legs, cupping his growing erection. “If you don’t want to fuck me,” he clarified, “what would you like to do instead?”

Wade didn’t even try to argue that he didn’t _want_ anything, and instead just spread his legs for Peter’s venturing hand. He blinked slowly a few times before offering a small, “Uh.”

“Do I need to quit touching you so you can think?” Peter teased.

“Maybe.”

Smirking, Peter held his hands up and scooted back, away from Wade, until they weren’t touching anymore. “Better?”

Wade grumbled for a moment. “I guess.”

It took a few long moments, but eventually Wade took a deep breath and crossed the couch until they were pressed up against each other again. “Could we just… do this?”

Peter blinked. “This? Like… Hang out on the couch? Really?”

Wade nodded and wrapped an arm behind Peter’s back, pulling him even closer to his side. “It’s been a really long night,” he offered by way of explanation.

It had been a long night, Peter agreed, curling up and settling in Wade’s arm.

“You sure this is what you want?”

“Believe it or not, I do enjoy just cuddling sometimes.”

Peter grinned and nuzzled against him, enjoying the mingling smells of soap and his shampoo, and _Wade._ “Don’t wanna watch a movie or something?”

Wade’s free hand came up to cover Peter’s mouth. “No. Cuddles and sleep now. Maybe a movie later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter's Test results:  
> 
> 
> Wade's Test results:  
> 
> 
> Would anyone be interested in me writing out a similar interaction for Loki and Tony taking this quiz? Just for funzies? LMK!
> 
> UP NEXT:  
> Hang on to your hats for June 2nd! FBiNS Part 2 officially starts then. (On the anniversary of me first posting The Gift, because I'll take any opportunity to be Extra AF.)  
> Also more Spideypool, (both FBiNS and other stuff) maybe some Symbrock? Maybe other stuff, who knows!
> 
> I leave you all for the moment with love in my heart. <3

**Author's Note:**

> The mentioned quiz is a real one!  
> [BDSM Quiz](https://bdsmtest.org/select-mode)
> 
> Come hang out and chat at me!
> 
> Tumblr: [@Wolfloner-Official](https://wolfloner-official.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter: [@Wolfloner1990](https://twitter.com/Wolfloner1990)  
> Discord: Wolfloner#9177  
> 


End file.
